• TABLE OF CONTENTS
HIDE
 Front Cover
 Morning
 The siege of Calais
 The land of pluck
 Three into one won't go
 The boy settlers
 Hobby-horses
 A feast of all nations
 The manners of sheep
 Chan ok; A romance of the eastern...
 The pathetic ballad of Clarinthia...
 April guests
 A lesson in happiness
 The fortunes of Toby Trafford
 What was it?
 My microscope
 The professor and the white...
 A turning point
 The way to travel
 A diet of candy
 Pussy and the turtle
 Jack-in-the-pulpit
 The letter-box
 The riddle-box
 Back Cover
 Spine






Title: St. Nicholas
ALL VOLUMES CITATION PAGE IMAGE ZOOMABLE
Full Citation
STANDARD VIEW MARC VIEW
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00065513/00241
 Material Information
Title: St. Nicholas
Uniform Title: St. Nicholas (New York, N.Y.)
Alternate Title: Saint Nicholas
Physical Description: 68 v. : ill. ; 25-30 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Dodge, Mary Mapes, 1830-1905
Publisher: Scribner
Place of Publication: New York
Publication Date: -c1943
Frequency: monthly
regular
 Subjects
Subject: Children's literature -- Periodicals   ( lcsh )
Genre: periodical   ( marcgt )
 Notes
Dates or Sequential Designation: -v. 67, no. 4 (Feb. 1940) ; v. 70, no. 1 (Mar. 1943)-v. 70, no. 4 (June 1943).
Dates or Sequential Designation: Began with: Vol. 1, no. 1, Nov. 1873.
Numbering Peculiarities: Suspended Mar. 1940-Feb. 1943; vols. 68-69 omitted.
Issuing Body: Published by: Century, Aug. 1881- ; by Educational Pub. Corp. -1940; by St. Nicholas Magazine, 1943.
General Note: Description based on: Vol. 2, no. 12 (Oct. 1875); title from cover.
General Note: Conducted by Mary Mapes Dodge.
Funding: Preservation and Access for American and British Children's Literature, 1870-1889 (NEH PA-50860-00).
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00065513
Volume ID: VID00241
Source Institution: University of Florida
Holding Location: Baldwin Library of Historical Children's Literature in the Department of Special Collections and Area Studies, George A. Smathers Libraries, University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved, Board of Trustees of the University of Florida.
Resource Identifier: oclc - 01764817
lccn - 04012675
 Related Items
Preceded by: Our young folks
Preceded by: Children's hour (Philadelphia, Penn.)
Preceded by: Little corporal
Preceded by: Schoolday magazine
Preceded by: Wide awake

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front Cover 1
        Front Cover 2
        Front Cover 3
    Morning
        Page 491
    The siege of Calais
        Page 492
        Page 493
        Page 494
        Page 495
        Page 496
        Page 497
    The land of pluck
        Page 498
        Page 499
        Page 500
        Page 501
        Page 502
        Page 503
        Page 504
        Page 505
    Three into one won't go
        Page 506
    The boy settlers
        Page 507
        Page 508
        Page 509
        Page 510
        Page 511
        Page 512
        Page 513
        Page 514
        Page 515
        Page 516
        Page 517
    Hobby-horses
        Page 518
        Page 519
    A feast of all nations
        Page 520
        Page 521
    The manners of sheep
        Page 522
    Chan ok; A romance of the eastern seas
        Page 523
        Page 524
        Page 525
        Page 526
        Page 527
        Page 528
        Page 529
        Page 530
    The pathetic ballad of Clarinthia Jane Louisa
        Page 531
    April guests
        Page 532
        Page 533
    A lesson in happiness
        Page 534
        Page 535
        Page 536
    The fortunes of Toby Trafford
        Page 537
        Page 538
        Page 539
        Page 540
        Page 541
        Page 542
        Page 543
        Page 544
        Page 545
    What was it?
        Page 546
    My microscope
        Page 547
        Page 548
        Page 549
        Page 550
        Page 551
        Page 552
    The professor and the white violet
        Page 553
    A turning point
        Page 554
        Page 555
        Page 556
    The way to travel
        Page 557
    A diet of candy
        Page 557
        Page 558
        Page 559
    Pussy and the turtle
        Page 560
        Page 561
    Jack-in-the-pulpit
        Page 562
        Page 563
    The letter-box
        Page 564
        Page 565
        Page 566
    The riddle-box
        Page 567
        Page 568
        Unnumbered ( 82 )
    Back Cover
        Back Cover 1
        Back Cover 2
    Spine
        Spine
Full Text














NICHOLAS.


VOL. XVIII.


MAY, 1891.

Copyright, 1891, by THE CENTURY Co. All rights reserved.


MORNING.


BY EMILY DICKINSON.


WILL there really be a morning ?
Is there such a thing as day ?
Could I see it from the mountains
If I were as tall as they ?

Has it feet like water-lilies ?
Has it feathers like a bird ?
Is it brought from famous countries
Of which I have never heard ?

Oh, some scholar! Oh, some sailor!
Oh, some wise man from the skies!
Please to tell a little pilgrim
Where the place called morning lies!


ST.


No. 7.


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TWENTY trumpets, blowing, blowing,
Fifers playing, drums a-going,
Bugles calling to the fray,
When King Edward took his way
To the city of Calais.


Down he rode with banners streaming,
Sabers shining, lances gleaming,
Down he rode, the kingly head
Of the glittering line he led,
Rode into the sunset red,


Westward, where in bold defying
Fifty Calais flags were flying.
Watching from the turret heights
Laughed aloud the Calais knights,
Soldiers known in famous fights.


As they laughed, still near and nearer
Rode the king, and clear and clearer
Just beyond the guarded moat
Trumpet-call and bugle-note
On the evening air did float.


Then, with splendid pennons streaming,
Golden lions and lilies gleaming
On the royal standards there,
Forth there rode a herald fair
With a confident bold air.
492






THE SIEGE OF CALAIS.


Swift he rode, with pace unfaltering,
Not a sign of doubt or paltering;
S... tt e. ro.:le, jis .-,e 1 by fate,
S.r ] l.it iiit. i Ie in : -il L : gate,
I *:rh.:.. i ,- .ii v. it -i r ., al state.

- In Ith I.irg':- rii:,-ii_. ,:.i. :-rraightway "
( -liel i, the -i e L !-.reL the ;:i'teway.
Fr...m ri.r l.: ri.- ;rr.ong and high,
-..:.:.r ill thi.- rn .-!, r.ply,
I III i l : i ._'- ii: ,. i .:- defy

SE i-l:h *: -. I l Di ori ii ..:.iver.
H ,-.r 1 i '.-rtr e -- : l ii t.-, ..i,:r,
Fi ..r..: :hl! k ii.. d *. hold her own,

Vii!, I,.: ki. .i.'-'. I throne!"

1:ul i:1- : 6ir ,1 i, 1-1 i t, 1 1,
M .:.rtl b., iiro:ni I r, :-i ring, dying,
in hlir _m e! .,:ii.-.h ph,_ ht
Held i. :ie: L., Erg.lnd's might
\\ i` rh r :,rnmn l I.:r.:e in sight:

M :i ithi L-v ii.iiri, unil *,:'i. airing,
Forth' ti'.h nt i .' iiJl r L...ring
i- rin I|: f-.- -L :- they would fling
IiP.en, ,, ice rlinr L i'- and bring
SLtr.iLIhtir ir ri.- F.r. ish king


493






THE SIEGE OF CALAIS.


The keys of Calais, if in pity
He would pass from out the city
All the people young and old-
Nobles, merchants, soldiers bold,
All the populace, full told.


"To the English crown shall render
Unconditional surrender,
Shall be subject unto me,
Or for ransom or for fee,
Ere the siege shall lifted be !"


'II


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17/I,~k


" IN THE KING'S NAME, OPEN STRAIGHTWAY !


Hot with wrath, the king made answer,-
"Tell your lords that every man, sir,
All the people young and old,
Nobles, merchants, soldiers bold,
All the populace, full told,


When returned the Calais warder
With this message, flushed with ardor,
With their French blood mounting high,
Swift the lords did make reply,
"Tell the king that we can die !


494


[MAY,







THE SIEGE OF CALAIS.


Kr

III


495


I-


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--=--~
--~-----
~--~ ----
~---~-~-~-~;;-
~---i.


"HELD IN SIEGE BY ENGLAND'S MIGHT."
" Bravely starve without his pity Never! never! rose the bitter
Shut within our guarded city, Cry of Calais. "It were fitter
But to turn so late, so late, We should die together here
Cowards at the very gate- Than to buy our lives so dear!"
Send unto this blindfold fate But at this, a voice rose clear,

"Comrades who have starved together, Saying, "Friends, it were a pity
Through a twelvemonth's varied weather; Thus to doom to death a city;
Shall a Frenchman stoop so low, Are there not at this sore need
Yield like this unto a foe, Men of high renown and deed
Faithless, heartless ? No,-ah, no Who will follow where I lead ?"

Stirred with something like relenting Then forth stept with gallant bearing
At this courage, half repenting Six brave men whose noble daring
Of his tyrannous decree, Was to save the city there
Edward cried impatiently, From the doom of slow despair:
"Tell these Frenchmen now from me, Forth they stept while sob and prayer

" If as ransom they will straightway Broke the cheers that were ascending
Send me by the city gateway In a pitiful strange blending;
Six chief merchants of the town, For alas! -what cruel fate
Citizens of high renown, Lurked behind that iron gate
Swift my herald shall ride down Where King Edward held his state!

" Into Calais, and proclaim there Hopeless then of English pity,
Peace and pardon in my name there; Forth they went from out the city,
Peace and pardon full and fain, Bare of foot and bare of head,
Unto those who do remain And by halters meanly led,
Subject to my sovereign reign." As the king had grimly said.


1
-i.-.--






THE SIEGE OF CALAIS.


When before him in this fashion,
They were brought, with sudden passion
Loud he thundered, "Let them die! "
Then arose a tender cry:
my liege, my lord, put by

"In this hour war's cruel measure!
Calais yields her life and treasure
To your mercy, O my king !
Give her then unreckoning
Mercy that befits a king."

In a moment's breathless span there,
Joyfully from man to man there
Ran the whisper low yet keen,
'T is Philippa; 't is the queen "
Startled from his warlike mien,


Flushed King Edward as he listened,
As he saw the eyes that glistened.
Then, with voice that vainly tried
To be fierce with wrath and pride,
Dame, my dame! he sharply cried.

But, before him straightway kneeling,
Spake the Queen in soft appealing:
For my sake! she sweetly said,
Lifting up her drooping head,
In her face both love and dread.

For her sake The stern lips parted;
There he stood, this lion-hearted
Soldier, conqueror, and king,
For her sake considering
Mercy that befits a king !


_.


"THEN FORTH STEPT WITH GALLANT BEARING SIX BRAVE MEN."


496


[MAY,






THE SIEGE OF CALAIS.


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- .;',: ^ r -, '

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For her sake! Yet, when assenting
Turned he there with swift relenting,
Who that looked upon his face,
Merciful with pardoning grace,
Failed the glad relief to trace ?


" BUT BEFORE HIM STRAIGHTWAY KNEELING,
SPAKE THE QUEEN IN SOFT APPEALING."
So at last the grand old story
Ends in conquered Calais' glory;
For not Edward's might and skill,
Nor Philippa's gracious will,
Through the centuries doth thrill,


But that deed so great and tender,
Where in noble self-surrender
Six brave men in solemn state
Passed beyond that iron gate,
Halter led, to meet their fate!


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s18g.]




































THE BIRTHDAY CUP.


THE LAND OF PLUCK.
SECOND PAPER.

BY MARY MAPES DODGE.


N the old, old time,
when many who
now are called the
heroes of antiquity
S were cutting their
baby-teeth, men
S commenced quar-
reling for the pos-
session of the
country which is
now known as Holland; and in one form or an-
other, the contest has been going on nearly ever
since. Why any shouldhave wanted it is a mystery
to me. It was then only a low tract of spongy
marsh, a network of queer rivers that seemed


never to know where they belonged, but insisted
every spring upon paying unwelcome visits to
the inland hiding here, running into each
other there, and falling asleep in pleasant places.
It was a great land-and-water kaleidoscope, girt
about with a rim of gloomy forest; or a sort of
dissected puzzle, with half of the pieces in soak;
and its owners were a scanty, savage, fish-eating
tribe, living, like beavers, on mounds of their
own raising.
What could have been the attraction? What,
indeed, unless it were the same feeling that often
makes a small boy holding either a kaleidoscope,
or a puzzle, an object of persecution to all the
big boys around him.







Let me take a look! they cry; I want my
turn "; or, Give me the puzzle! Let's see what
I can make out of it! "
You know how it is too apt to be. First, their
attention is arrested by seeing the small boy
peculiarly happy and absorbed. They begin to
nudge, then to bully him. Small boy shakes
his head and tries to enjoy himself in peace and
quietness. Bullying increases-the nudges be-
come dangerous. In despair he soon gives in,
or, rather, gives up, and the big boys slide into
easy possession.
But suppose the small boy is plucky, and will
not give up ? Suppose he would see the puzzle
crushed to atoms first ? Suppose only positive
big-boy power can overcome his as positive re-
sistance? What then?
So commenced the history of Holland.
The first who held possession of Dutch soil -
not the first who ever had lived upon it, but the
first who had persistently enjoyed the kaleido-
scope, and busied themselves with the puzzle -
were a branch of the great German race. Driven
by circumstances from their old home, they had
settled upon an empty island in the river Rhine,
which, you know, after leaving its pleasant south-
ern country, straggles through Holland in a be-
wildered search for the sea. This island they
called Betauw, or Good Meadow," and so, in
time, themselves came to be called Batavii, or
Batavians.
Other portions of the country were held by
various tribes living upon and beyond a great
tract of land which afterward, in true Holland
style, was turned into a sea.* Most of these
tribes were sturdy and brave, but the Batavii
were braver than any. Fierce, stanch, and de-
fiant, they taught even their little children only
the law of might; and their children grew up
to be mightier than they. The blessed Teacher
had not yet brought the world his lesson of
mercy and love. Conquer one another had
stronger claims to their consideration than Love
one another."
Their votes in council were given by the
clashing of arms; and often their wives and
mothers stood by with shouts and cries of
encouragement wherever the fight was thickest.


499


"Others go to battle," said the historian Taci-
tus; these go to war."
Soon the all-conquering Romans, who, with
Julius Caesar at their head, had trampled sur-
rounding nations into subjection, discovered
that the Batavii were not to be vanquished -
that their friendship was worth far more than the
wretched country they inhabited. An alliance
was soon formed, and the Batavii were declared
to be exempt from the annual tax or tribute
which all others were forced to pay to the
Romans. Casar himself was not ashamed to
extol their skill in arms, nor to send their already
famous warriors to fight his battles and strike
terror to the hearts of his foes.
The Batavian cavalry could swim across wide
and deep rivers without breaking their ranks,
and their infantry were excelled by none in
drill, in archery, and wonderful powers of en-
durance. They had fought too long with the
elements in holding their Good Meadow to
be dismayed in battle by any amount of danger
and fatigue.
The Romans called them friends," but the
Batavians soon discovered that they were being
used merely as a cat's-paw. After a while, as
cat's-paws will, they turned and scratched. A
contest, stubborn and tedious, between the
Romans and Batavians followed. At length
both parties were glad to make terms of peace,
which prevailed, with few interruptions, until the
decline of the Roman Empire.
After that, hordes of barbarians overran
Europe; and Holland, with the rest, had a
hard time of it. Man to man, the Batavian
could hold his own against any mortal foe, but
he was not always proof against numbers. The
"Good Meadow," grown larger and more valu-
able, was conquered and held in turn by several
of the "big boys" among the savage tribes,
but not until Batavian pluck stood recorded in
many a fearful tale passed from father to son.
Later, each of the surrounding nations, as
it grew more powerful, tried to wrest Holland
from the holders of her soil. Some succeeded,
some failed; but always, and every time, the
Dutch gathered their strength for the contest
and went not to battle, but to war. As, in later


* The Zuyder Zee, formed by successive inundations during the thirteenth century. In the last of these
inundations- in 1287 -nearly eighty thousand persons were drowned.


THE LAND OF PLUCK.






THE LAND OF PLUCK.


history, the Russians burnt Moscow to prevent
it from falling into the hands of Napoleon, so
this stanch people always stood ready, at the
worst, to drown Holland rather than yield her
to the foe. Often they let in the waters they
had so laboriously shut out, laying waste hun-


were sure, sooner or later, to arouse Dutch
pluck; and Dutch pluck, in the end, has
always beaten.
And so, though Roman, Saxon, Austrian,
Spaniard, Belgian, Englishman, and French-
man in turn flourished a scepter over them,


BATAVIANS IN COUNCIL.-" DEATH TO THE INVADER!"


dreds of fertile acres, that an avenging sea
might suddenly confound the invaders. Often
they faced famine and pestilence, men, women,
and little wonder-stricken children perishing in
the streets of their beleaguered cities-all who
had breath to say it, still fiercely refusing to sur-
render. Wherever the strong arm of the enemy
succeeded in mowing these people down, a
stronger, sturdier growth was sure to spring from
the stubble. Sometimes defeated, never sub-
dued, they were patient under subjection only
until they were again ready to rise as one man
and throw off the yoke. Now and then, it is
true, under promise of peace and increased
prosperity, they formed a friendly union with a
one-time enemy. But woe to the other side if
it carried aggression and a trust in might too
far. Treachery, oppression, breach of faith


it comes, after all, to be true, that only "the
Dutch have really taken Holland." It is theirs
by every right of inheritance and strife theirs
to hold, to drain, and to pump, for ever and ever.
They wrested it from the sea, not in a day,
but through long years of patient toil, through
dreary years of suffering and sorrow. They
have counted their dead, in their war with the
ocean alone, by hundreds of thousands. Indus-
try, hardihood, and thrift have Been their allies
in a better sense than their old Batavian forces
were allied to the haughty Caesar.
For ages, it seems, Holland could not have
known a leisure moment. Frugal, hardy, pains-
taking, and persevering, her spirit was ever
equal to great enterprises. With them every
difficulty was a challenge. Obstacles that
would have discouraged others, inspired the


[MAY,


500






THE LAND OF PLUCK.


Dutch with increased energy. Their land was
only a marsh threatened by the sea. What of
that? So much the more need of labor and
skill to make it a hailing-place among nations.
It was barren and bleak. "Why, then," said
they, "so much the more need we should be-
come masters in tilling the soil." It was a very
little place, scarcely worth giving a name on
the maps. So much the more need," said
plucky Holland, that we extend our posses-
sions, own lands in every corner of the earth,
and send our ships far and near, until every na-
tion shall unconsciously pay us tribute."
Such is the industry of the people and the
trade they drive," said a writer of the sixteenth
century, that, having little or no corn of their
own growth, they do provide themselves else-
where, not only sufficient for their own spend-
ing, but wherewith to supply their neighbors.
Having no timber of their own, they spend
more timber in building ships and fencing their
water-courses than any country in the world.
S. .And finally, having neither flax nor wool,
they make more cloth of both sorts than in all
the countries of the world, except France and
England."
Of some things they soon began to have a
surplus. There was not half, nor a quarter
enough persons in frugal Holland to drink all
the milk of their herds. Forthwith Dutch but-
ter and cheese came to be sent all over Chris-
S tendom. The herring-fisheries were enormous.
More fish came to their nets than would satisfy
every man, woman, and child in Holland.
England had enough herring of her own.
Ships were too slow in those days to make
fresh fish a desirable article of export. Here
was trouble! Not so. Up rose a Dutchman
named William Beukles, and invented the cur-
ing and pickling of herring. From that hour
the fish trade made Holland richer and more
prosperous than ever. A monument was raised
to the memory of Beukles, for was he not a na-
tional benefactor?
The Dutch delight in honoring their heroes,
their statesmen, and inventors. You cannot be
long among them without hearing of one Lau-
rens Janzoon Koster, to whom, they insist, the
world owes the art of printing with movable
types-the most important of human inventions.


Their cities are rich in memorials and monu-
ments of those whose wisdom and skill have
proved a boon to mankind. All along the paths
of human progress we can find Dutch footprints.
In education, science, and political economy,
they have, many a time, led the way.
The boys and girls of Holland are citizens in
a high sense of the word. They soon learn to
love their country, and to recognize the fatherly
care of its government. A sense of common
danger, of the necessity of all acting together in
common defense, has served to knit the affections
of the people. In truth it may be said, for his-
tory has proved it, that in every Dutch arm you
can feel the pulse of Holland. Throughout her
early struggles, in the palmy, glorious days of
the republic, as well as now in her cautious
constitutional monarchy, the Dutch have been
patriots-mistaken and short-sighted at times,
but always true to their beloved "Good Mea-
dow." Hollow-land, Low-land, or Nether-land,
whatever men may call it, their country stands
high in their hearts. They love it with more
than the love of a mountaineer for his native
hills.
To be sure there have been riots and out-
breaks there, as in all other thickly settled parts
of the world-perhaps more than elsewhere,
for Dutch indignation, though slow in kindling,
makes a prodigious blaze when once fairly afire.
Some of these disturbances have arisen only
after a long endurance of serious wrongs; and
some seem to have been started at once by that
queer friction-match in human nature, which, if
left unguarded, is sure to be nibbled at, and so
ignited, by the first little mouse of discontent
that finds it.
There was a curious origin to one of these
domestic quarrels. On a certain occasion a
banquet was given, at which were present two
noted Dutch noblemen, rivals in power, who had
several old grudges to settle. The conversa-
tion turning on the codfishery, one of the two
remarked upon the manner in which the hook
(hoek) took the codfish, or kabbeljaauw, as the
Dutch call it.
The hook take the codfish! exclaimed the
other in no very civil tone; it would be better
sense to say that the codfish takes the hook."
The grim jest was taken up in bitter earnest.





THE LAND OF PLUCK.


THE ORIGIN OF THE CODFISH WAR. "THE GRIM JEST WAS TAKEN UP IN BITTER EARNEST."


High words passed, and the chieftains rose from
the table enemies for life.
They proceeded to organize war against each
other; a bitter war it proved to Holland, for it
lasted one hundred and fifty years, and was
fought out with all the stubbornness of family
feuds. The opposing parties took the names of
"hoeks" and "kabbeljaauws," and men of all
classes enlisted in their respective ranks. In
many instances fathers, brothers, sons, and old-
time friends forgot their ties, and knew each other
only as foes. The feud (being Dutch !) raged
hotter and stronger in proportion as men had
time coolly to consider the question. A thicket
of mutual wrongs, real or imaginary, sprang up
to further entangle the opposing parties; fami-
lies were divided, miles of smiling country laid
in ruin, and tens of thousands of men slain-
for what?
Those who fought, and those who looked on,
longing for peace, are alike silent now. History
cannot quite clear up the mystery. I know how
hard it must have been to settle the knotty ques-
tion whether hooks or codfish can more prop-
erly be said to be taken," and how dangerous
the littlest thorns of anger and jealousy become
if not plucked out at the onset. It is certain,
too, that the hoeks and kabbeliaauws were terribly
in earnest:
But what they killed each other for
I never could make out."


The kabbeljaauws had one advantage. When
a public dinner was given by their party, the
first dish brought in by the seneschal (or stew-
ard) was a huge plate of codfish elaborately
decorated with flowers; something not ornamen-
tal only, but substantial and satisfactory; while
the corresponding dish at a hoek festival con-
tained nothing but a gigantic hook encircled
by a flowery wreath.
All through Dutch history you will find quaint
words and phrases that have a terrible record
folded within their quaintness. The Casenbrot-
spel, or Bread and Cheese war, was not funny
when it came to blight the last ten years of the
fifteenth century, though it sounds so lightly
now. And the Gueux, or "Beggars," who,
nearly a century later, come forth on the blood-
stained page, were something more than beg-
gars, as King Philip and the wicked Duke of
Alva found to their cost.
Ah, those Beggars! Watch for them when
you read Dutch history. They will soon appear,
with their wallets and wooden bowls, their doub-
lets of ashen gray,- brave, reckless, desperate
men, whose deeds struck terror over land and
sea. When once they come in sight, turn as you
may, you will meet them; you will hear their
wild cry, Long live the Beggars!" ringing
amid the blaze and carnage of many a terrible
day. There are princes and nobles among them.
They will grow bolder and fiercer, more reckless


[MAY,





THE LAND OF PLUCK.


and desperate, until their country's persecutor,
Philip of Spain, has withdrawn the last man of
S all his butchering hosts from their soil; until the
Duke of Alva, one of the blackest characters
in all history, has cowered before the wrath of
Holland !
Ah my light-hearted boys and girls, if there
were not lessons to be learned from these things,
it would be well to blot them from human mem-
S ory. But would it be well to forget the hero-
ism, the majestic patience, the trust in God, that
shine forth resplendent from these darkest pages
of Dutch history? Can we afford to lose such
examples of human grandeur under suffering as
come to us from the beleaguered cities of Naar-
den, Haarlem, and Leyden? When you learn
their stories, if you do not know them already,
you will understand Dutch pluck in all its full-
ness, and be glad that, in the end, it proved
victorious over every foe.
But, as you already have been told, it is not
only amid the din of war that Holland has


due to the fact that their peculiar simplicity and
love of quiet have proved a sort of standing
invitation to make war upon them; possibly it
is because of their great commercial enterprise,
and their tempting stores; but, to my mind,
their peculiarly far-seeing, though seemingly
sleepy, way of looking at things has had much
to do with their history.
The story of Dutch patriotism could be writ-
ten out in symbols, or pictures, more eloquently
than that of any other nation. There would be
battleships and fortresses, shields, and arrows,
and spears, and all the paraphernalia of war,
ancient and modern. But beside these, and
having a sterner significance, would be the tools
and implements of artisans, the windmills, the
dykes, the canals; the sluice-gates, the locks,
the piles that hold up their cities. How much
could be told by the great, white-sailed mer-
chantmen bound for every sea; by the mam-
moth docks, and by the wonderful cargoes
coming and going! How the great buildings


THE GUEUX, OR BEGGARS.


shown her pluck; nor is hers the boisterous,
bragging quality that offends at every turn. A
simpler, steadier, more peacefully inclined peo-
ple it would be hard to find; but somehow they
have an odd way of being actively concerned
in the history of other nations. Possibly this is


would loom up, each telling its story the fac-
tories, warehouses, schools, colleges, museums,
legislative halls, the hospitals, asylums, and
churches !
There would be more than these: there would
be libraries, art-galleries, and holy places, bat-


__






THE LAND OF PLUCK.


"A FINE CATCH OF HERRING!"
tered and broken. There would be monuments terrible voices. There would be boats manned
and relics, and church organs with sweet yet by rough heroes trying to save thousands of
drowning fellow-creatures whose
homes had been swept away by
the waves. We should see the
-i=_ 'noblest public parks of their time;
gardens, too, wonderful in their
-. t. blooming; and, over all, a picture
of the bells, the carillons that for
Sages have sent down messages,
-more or less musical, upon the
people.
Dutch pluck has sailed all
over the world. It has put its
"; I'" stamp on commerce, science,
and manufactures. It has set
j, .its seal on every quarter of the
earth. Dutchmen were at home
in Japan before either the Amer-
icans or English had dared to
venture upon those inhospitable
shores. There were great ob-
r ---stacles to encounter in any at-
-- - _tempt at trading or becoming
-- acquainted with that strange
hermit of an empire in the east.
A DUTCH WINDMILL. She had enough of her own,


[MAY,






THE LAND OF PLUCK.


she said, and asked no favors of the outside
barbarians. Would they be kind enough to
stay away? Most of the world gave an un-
willing assent; but Holland undertook to show
Japan the folly of rejecting the benefits of com-
merce; and in time,' and after many a hard
struggle, succeeded in establishing a Japanese
trade.
Talking of ships, where did that ship sail from
that brought the good Fathers of New England
safely across the sea ? And, for months before,
what country had sheltered them from the per-


round ? Why, until very lately, did your fathers
and uncles on the first day of January, from
morning till night, pay visits from house to house,
wishing the ladies a "Happy New Year" ?
Simply because these were Holland customs;
they were following the example set by Dutch
ancestors.
Hendrick Hudson, the first white man who
explored our noble North River, was a Dutch-
man. He modestly called it De Groote (or the
Great) river, little thinking that for all time
after it would bear his own name, and that you


- I


' s ... ...-* L -=
A FIRESIDE IN OLD NEW ORIK.


section that threatened them in their native
land ? Ask the books these questions, if need
be, and ask yourselves whether to shelter the
oppressed, to offer an asylum to hunted fugitives
from every clime, is not a noble work for pluck
to do.
Whence, too, did some of our New York
oddities come ? Why are you, little New York-
ers, so fond of waffles, krullers, and doughnuts,
and New Year's cake ? Dutch inventions every
one of them. Why do you expectantly honor the
good St. Nicholas, the patron saint of New York?
Why is this city turned topsy-turvy in a gen-
eral moving" whenever the first of May comes
VOL. XVIII.- 38.


would call it the Hudson. Staten (or States)
Island was named by him in honor of his home
government, the States General. Some say he
called the dangerous passage between Long and
Manhattan islands (which only five years ago
yielded its most dangerous reef to the persuasions
of science and dynamite), Helle Gat, or Beautiful
Pass. Look at the names of many down-town
streets of New York, once called New Amster-
dam-The Bowery [. u.!i. C rl'i.,.. Van-
dam, Roosevelt, Stuyvesant, and scores of others
all named after good Dutchmen. Not only New
York, but Brooklyn, \ll" -, and other cities
have streets that lead one ...r. Il. into the


505






THE LAND OF PLUCK.


Netherlands, so to speak. Indeed, Dutch
names lie sprinkled very thickly in every direc-
tion within a hundred miles of the Fifth Avenue.
It may not be out of place for the writer to
allude here to a story of Dutch life which pos-
sibly is known to many readers of ST. NICHO-
LAS. It is the story of Hans Brinker; or the
Silver Skates." If that book has interested you,
it will have only half done its work unless it also
has aroused in you an admiration of the Dutch
character and a desire to know more of Dutch
history. To gain this knowledge, a boy or girl,
old enough to pursue special studies by reading,
cannot do better than to take up the works of
our American author, John Lothrop Motley,
the great historian of Holland. His Rise
of the Dutch Republic," and The History of


the United Netherlands," are two of the man-
liest, most thorough, most eloquent works of
history ever written.
Holland is stanch, true, and plucky, but it is
Holland; and, lest you forget that it still is the
oddest country in Christendom, I must tell you
that within a few months a new king has suc-
ceeded to the throne of Holland-and this new
king is a bright little girl barely eleven years of
age! Yes, the High Council of Holland has
solemnly decreed that in taking the oath of alle-
giance to the new sovereign the title King"
shall be used. On another page in this number
of ST. NICHOLAS you will find a brief letter about
the little lady and the career that lies before her;
but why this little girl should be called King
Wilhelmina no one but a Dutchman can tell










'f THEL INTO ONE WON'T GO-


, T.. Jesie B. lIcluro.


S -L Tommn Gray has a vory

i empty pate,
Dearly loves o play.

p'"l but he Lates hi.

,^booQL aulJ.d oate,

is. i uz.iec- no_-w


over what h.

ought to know,

"Three into one won''


go!"


506


L-
_ -_~_~"~tQi~~l~n~n~~_
.----












THE BOY SETTLERS.


BY NOAH BROOKS.


S[Begun in te November number.

CHAPTER XIV.

MORE HOUSE-BUILDING.

Iv was an anxious and wondering household
that Sandy burst in upon, next morning, where
he had reached the cabin, escorted to th(
divide above Younkins's place by his kind
hearted host of the night before. It was Sun
day morning, bright and beautiful; but trul)
never had any home looked so pleasant to hi!
eyes as did the homely and weather-beaten log
cabin which they called their own while the)
lived in it. He had left his borrowed hors(
with its owner, and, shouldering his meal-sacl
with its dearly bought contents, he had taken
short cut to the cabin, avoiding the usual trail ir
order that as he approached he might not b
seen from the window looking down the river.
Oh, Sandy 's all right," he heard his brothel
Charlie say. I '11 stake my life that he wil
come home with flying colors, if you only giv(
him time. He 's lost the trail somehow, anc
: had to put up at some cabin all night. Don'
you worry about Sandy."
But these Indian stories; I don't like them,'
said his father, with a tinge of sadness in hi!
voice.
Sandy could bear no more; so, flinging dowr
his burden, he bounced into the cabin with
"Oh, I 'm all right! Safe and sound, but aw
Hungry as a bear."
~ The little party rushed to embrace the young
adventurer, and, in their first flush of surprise
nobody remembered to be severe with him foi
his carelessness. Quite the hero of the hour, the
lad sat on the table and told them his tale, how
. he had lost his way, and how hospitably anc
well he had been cared for at Fuller's.
Fuller's exclaimed his uncle. What ir
the world took you so far off your track aw


Fuller's? You must have gone at least ten
miles out of your way."
Yes, Uncle Charlie," said the boy, it's just
as easy to travel ten miles out of the way as it
is to go one. All you have to do is to get your
I face in the wrong way, and all the rest is easy.
i Just keep a-going; that's what I did. I turned
Sto the right instead of to the left, and for once
- I found that the right was wrong."
A burst of laughter from Oscar, who had been
Opening the sack that held Sandy's purchases,
s interrupted the story.
"Just see what a hodgepodge of a mess
y Sandy has brought home! Tobacco, biscuits,
e ginger, and I don't know what not, all in a pud-
Sding. It only lacks milk and eggs to make it a
i cracker pudding flavored with ginger and smok-
i ing-tobacco!" And everybody joined in the
e laugh that a glance at Sandy's load called
forth.
r "Yes," said the blushing boy, I forgot to
I tie the bag at both ends, and the jouncing up
Sand down of Younkins's old horse (dear me!
I was n't he a hard trotter!) must have made a
t mash of everything in the bag. The paper of
tobacco burst, and then I suppose the ginger
followed; the jolting of poor old Dobbin'
Sdid the rest. Ruined, daddy ? Nothing worth
saving ? "
S Mr. Howell ruefully acknowledged that the
, mixture was not good to eat, nor yet to smoke,
s and certainly not to make gingerbread of. So,
after picking out some of the larger pieces of
Sthe biscuits, the rest was thrown away, greatly
,to Sandy's mortification.
r All of my journey gone for nothing," he
Said with a sigh.
Never mind, my boy," said his father,
Fondly; "since you have come back alive
and well, let the rest of the business care for
Itself. As long as you are alive and the red-
s skins have not captured you, I am satisfied."
507






THE BOY SETTLERS.


Such was Sandy's welcome home.
With the fo'ii:., in Monday morning came
hard work.-harder work, so Sandy thought,
than miserably trying to find one's way in the
darkness of a strange region of country. For
another log-house, this time on the prairie
c~aim, was to be begun at once. They might
be called on at any time to give up the cabin in
which they were simply tenants at will, and it was
necessary that a house of some sort be put on
the claim that they had staked out and planted.
The corn was up and doing well. Sun and rain
had contributed to hasten on the corn-field, and
the vines of the melons were vigorously push-
ing their way up and down the hills of grain.
Charlie wondered what they would do with so
many watermelons when they ripened; there
would be hundreds of them; and the mouths
that were to eat them, although now watering
for the delicious fruit, were not numerous enough
to make away with a hundredth part of what
would be ripe very soon. There was no mar-
ket nearer than the post, and there were many
melon-patches between Whittier's and the fort.
But the new log-house, taken hold of with
energy, was soon built up to the height where
the roof was to be put on. At this juncture,
Younkins advised them to roof over the cabin
slightly, make a corn-bin of it, and wait for
developments. For, he argued, if there should
be any rush of emigrants and settlers to that
part of the country, so that their claims were
in danger of dispute, they would have ample
warning, and could make ready for an immediate
occupation of the place. If nobody came, then
the corn-house, or bin, would be all they wanted
of the structure.
But Mr. Howell, who took the lead in all
such matters, shook his head doubtfully. He
was not in favor of evading the land laws; he
was more afraid of the claim being jumped. If
T..,. were to come home from a hunting trip,
some time, and find their log-cabin occupied
by a "claim-jumper," or "squatter," as these in-
terloper were called, and their farm in the
possession of strangers, would n't they feel
L.-I., ? He thought so.
"-'*. Uncle Aleck," said Oscar, why not
firjni it off as a cabin to live in, put in the corn
when it rivens, and then we shall have the con-


cern as a dwelling, in case there is any danger
of the claim being jumped ? "
Great head, Oscar," said his uncle admir-
ingly. "That is the best notion yet. We will
complete the cabin just as if we were to move
into it, and if anybody who looks like an intend-
ing claim-jumper comes prowling around, we
will take the alarm and move in. But so far,
I 'm sure, there has been no rush to these parts.
It's past planting season, and it is not likely.
that anybody will get up this way, now so far
west, without our knowing it."
So the log-cabin, or, as they called it, Whit-
tier, Number Two," was finished with all that
the land laws required, with a window filled
with panes of glass, a door, and a stick
chimney built of sticks plastered with clay, a
floor and space enough on the ground to take
care of a family twice as large as theirs, in case
of need. When all was done, they felt that
they were now able to hold their farming claim
as well as their timber claim, for on each was a
goodly log-house, fit to live in and comfortable
for the coming winter if they should make up
their minds to live in the two cabins during that
trying season.
The boys took great satisfaction in their
kitchen-garden near the house in which they
were tenants; for when Younkins lived there,
he had plowed and spaded the patch, and planted
it two seasons, so now it was an old piece of
ground compared with the wild land that had
just been broken up around it. In their garden-
spot they had planted a variety of vegetables
for the table, and in the glorious Kansas sun-
shine, watered by frequent showers, they were
thriving wonderfully. They promised them-
selves much pleasure and profit from a garden
that they would make by their new cabin, when
another summer should come.
Younkins says that he can walk all over his
melon-patch on the other side of the Fork, step-
ping only on the melons and never touching the
ground once," said Oscar, one day, later in the
season, as they were feasting themselves on one
of the delicious watermelons that now so plen-
tifully dotted their own corn-field.
What a big story! exclaimed both of the
other boys at once. But Oscar appealed to his
father, who came striding by the edge of the


[MAY,






THE BOY SETTLERS.


field where they chatted together. Had he ever
heard of such a thing?
Well," said Mr. Bryant, good-naturedly, I
have heard of melons so thick in a patch, and
so big around, that the sunshine could n't get
to the ground except at high noon. How is
that for a tall story ? "
The boys protested that that was only a tale
of fancy. Could it be possible that anybody
could raise melons so thickly together as Mr.
Younkins had said he had seen them ? Mr.
Bryant, having kicked open a fine melon, took
out the heart of it to refresh himself with, as
was the manner of the settlers, where the fruit
was so plenty and the market so far out of reach;
then, between long drafts of the delicious pulp,
he explained that certain things, melons for
example, flourished better on the virgin soil of
the sod than elsewhere.
"Another year or so," he said, and you will
never see on this patch of land such melons as
these. They will never do so well again on this
soil as this year. I never saw such big melons as
these, and if we had planted them a little nearer
together, I don't in the least doubt that any
smart boy, like Sandy here, could walk all over
the field, stepping from one melon to another, if
he only had a pole to balance himself with as he
walked. There would be nothing very wonder-
ful-like about that. It's a pity that we have no
use for these, there are so many of them and they
are so good. Pity some of the folks at home
have n't a few of them a hundred or two, for
instance."
It did seem a great waste of good things that
these hundreds and hundreds of great water-
melons should decay on the ground for lack of
somebody to eat them. In the very wantonness.
of their plenty, the settlers had been accustomed
to break open two or three of the finest of the
fruit before they could satisfy themselves that
they had got one of the best. Even then, they
only took the choicest parts, leaving the rest to
the birds. By night, too, the coyotes, or prairie-
wolves, mean and sneaking things that they
were, would steal down into the melon-patch
and, in the desperation of their hunger, nose into
the broken melons left by the settlers, and at-
tempt to drag away some of the fragments, all
the time uttering their fiendish yelps and howls.


Somebody had told the boys that the juice
of watermelons boiled to a thick syrup was
a very good substitute for molasses. Younkins
told them that, back in old Missouri, many
families never had any other kind of sweetenin'
in the house than watermelon molasses." So
Charlie made an experiment with the juice boiled
until it was pretty thick. All hands tasted it,
and all hands voted that it was very poor stuff.
They decided that they could not make their
superabundance of watermelons useful except
as an occasional refreshment.

CHAPTER XV.
PLAY COMES AFTER WORK.

THE two cabins built, wood for the winter
cut and hauled, and the planting all done, there
was now nothing left to do but to wait and see
the crop ripen. Their good friend Younkins
was in the same fortunate condition, and he was
ready to suggest, to the intense delight of the
boys, that they might be able to run into a herd
of buffalo, if they should take a notion to follow
the old Indian trail out to the feeding-grounds.
In those days, there was no hunting west of the
new settlement, except that of the Indians. In
that vague and mysterious way by which reports
travel -in the air, as it were among all fron-
tier settlements, they had heard that buffalo
were plenty in the vast ranges to the westward,
the herds moving slowly northward, grazing as
they went. It was now the season of wild
game, and so the boys were sent across to
Younkins's to ask him what he thought of a
buffalo-hunting trip.
Reaching his cabin, the good woman of the
house told them that he had gone into the tall
timber near by, thinking he heard some sort
of wild birds in the underbrush. He had
taken his gun with him; in fact, Younkins was
seldom seen without his gun, except when he
was at work in the fields. The boys gleefully
followed Younkins's trail into the forest, making
for an opening about a half-mile away, where
Mrs. Younkins thought he was most likely to be
found. Major," the big yellow dog, a special
pet of Sandy's, accompanied them, although his
mistress vainly tried to coax him back. Major
was fond of boys' society.






THE BOY SETTLERS.


"There's Younkins now," cried Oscar, as
they drew near an opening in the wood into
which the hot sunlight poured. Younkins was
half crouching and cautiously making his way
into the nearer side of the opening, and the boys,
knowing that he was on the track of game,
silently drew near, afraid of disturbing the
hunter or the hunted. Suddenly Major, catch-
ing sight of the game, bounded forward with a
loud bark into the tangle of berry bushes and


and that lunkhead of a dog must needs dash
in and scare 'em up. It 's too pesky blamed
bad!"
The boys were greatly mortified at the disas-
ter that they had brought upon Younkins and
Major by bringing the dog out with them. But
when Charlie, as the eldest, explained that they
had no idea that Major would work mischief,
Younkins said, Never mind, boys, for you
did not know what was going on-like."


-. -



"THEY WERE FEASTING THEMSELVES ON ONE OF THE DELICIOUS WATERMELONS THAT NOW SO PLENTIFULLY
DOTTED THEIR OWN CORN-FIELD." (SEE PAGE 508.)


vines. There was a confused noise of wings, a
whistle of alarm which also sounded like the
gobble of a turkey, and four tremendous birds
rose up, and with a motion that was partly a
run and partly a flying, they disappeared into
the depths of the forest. To their intense sur-
prise, the usually placid Younkins turned sav-
agely upon the dog, and, saying, Drat that
fool dog!" fired one barrel loaded with fine
bird-shot into poor Major.
Four as fine turkeys as you ever saw in
your life!" he explained as if in apology to
the boys. I was sure of at least two of 'em;


- Younkins, ashamed, apparently, of his burst
of temper, stooped down and, discovering that
Major's wounds were not very serious, extracted
the shot, plucked a few leaves of some plant
that he seemed to know all about, and pressed
the juice into the wounds made by the shot.
The boys looked on with silent admiration.
This man knew everything, they thought. They
had often marveled to see how easily and uner-
ringly he found his way through woods, streams,
and over prairies; now he showed them another
gift; he was a natural born doctor," as his wife
proudly said of him. -


51o


[MAY,






THE BOY SETTLERS.


No wild turkey for supper to-night," said
Younkins, as he picked up his shot-gun and
returned with the boys to the cabin. He was
right glad," he said, to agree to go on a buf-
falo hunt, if the rest of the party would like to
go. He knew there must be buffalo off to the
westward. He went with Mr. Fuller and Mr.
Battles last year, about this time, and they had
great luck. He would come over that evening
.and set a date with the other men for starting
out together.
Elated with this ready consent of Younkins,
the lads went across the ford, eager to tell their
.elders the story of the wild turkeys and poor
Major's exploit. Sandy, carrying his shot-gun
-on his shoulder, lingered behind while the other
two boys hurried up the trail to the log-cabin.
He fancied that he heard a noise as of ducks
-quacking, in the creek that emptied into the
Fork just below the ford. So, making his way
.softly to the densely wooded bank of the creek,
he parted the branches with great caution and
looked in. What a sight it was! At least fifty
fine black ducks were swimming around, feed-
ing and quacking sociably together, entirely
unconscious of the wide-open blue eyes that
were staring at them from behind the covert of
the thicket. Sandy thought them even more
wonderful and beautiful than the young fawn
and its dam that he had seen on the Fort Riley
trail. For a moment, fascinated by the rare
:spectacle, he gazed wonderingly at the ducks
as they swam around, chasing each other and
eagerly hunting for food. It was but for a
moment, however. Then he raised his shot-gun,
and, taking aim into the thickest of the flock,
fired both barrels in quick succession. Instantly
the gay clamor of the pretty creatures ceased,
and the flock rose with a loud whirring of wings
and wheeled away over the tree-tops. The
surface of the water, to Sandy's excited imagi-
nation, seemed to be fairly covered with birds,
some dead and some struggling with wounded
limbs. The other two boys, startled by the
double report from Sandy's gun, came scamper-
ing down the trail, just as the lad, all excitement,
was stripping off his clothes to wade into the
creek for his game.
"Ducks! Black ducks! I 've shot a mil-
lion of 'em!" cried the boy, exultingly; and in


another instant he plunged into the water up to
his middle, gathering the ducks by the legs and
bringing them to the bank, where Charlie and
Oscar, discreetly keeping out of the oozy creek,
received them, counting the birds as they threw
them on the grass.
"Eighteen, all told!" shouted Oscar, when
the last bird had been caught, as it floundered
about among the weeds, and brought ashore.
Eighteen ducks in two shots! cried Sandy,
his freckled face fairly beaming with delight.
Did ever anybody see such luck ?"
They all thought that nobody ever had.
What 's that on your leg ?" asked Oscar,
stooping to pick from Sandy's leg a long, brown
object looking like a flat worm. To the boys'
intense astonishment, the thing would not come
off, but stretched out to several inches in length,
holding on by one end.
Sandy howled with pain. It is something
that bites," he cried.
"And there 's another, and another! Why,
he 's covered all over with 'em! exclaimed
Oscar.
Sure enough, the lad's legs, if not exactly
covered, were well sprinkled with the things.
Scrape 'em off with your knife! cried
Sandy.
Oscar usually carried a sheath-knife at his
belt, more for the style of the thing, than use,"
he explained; so with this he quickly took off
the repulsive creatures, which, loosening their
hold, dropped to the ground limp and shapeless.
"Leeches," said Charlie, briefly, as he poked
one of them over with a stick. The mystery
was explained, and wherever one of them had
been attached to the boy's tender skin, blood
flowed freely for a few minutes and then ceased.
Even on one or two of the birds they found a
leech adhering to the feathers where the poor

thing's blood had followed the shot. Picking
up the game, the three boys joyfully escorted
the elated Sandy to the cabin, where his unex-
pected adventures made him the hero of the
day.
"Could n't we catch some of those leeches
and sell them to the doctors ? asked the prac-
tical Oscar.
His father shook his head. "American wild
leeches like those are not good for much, my





THE BOY SETTLERS.


son. I don't know why not; but I have been
told that only the imported leeches are used by
medical men."
"Well," said Sandy, tenderly rubbing his
wounded legs, "if imported leeches can bite
any more furiously than these Kansas ones do,
I don't want any of them to tackle me! I sup-
pose these were hungry, though, not having had
a taste of a fresh Illinois boy, lately. But they
did n't make much out of me, after all."
Very happy were those three boys, that even-
ing, as, filled with roast wild duck, they sat by
and heard their elders discuss with Younkins
the details of the grand buffalo hunt that was
now to be organized. Younkins had seen Mr.
Fuller, who had agreed to make one of the
party. So there would be four men and the
three boys to compose the expedition. They
were to take two horses, Fuller's and Younkins's,
to serve as pack-animals, for the way to the
hunting-ground might be long; but the hunt-
ing was to be done on foot. Younkins was very
sure that they would have no difficulty in get-
ting near enough to shoot; the animals had not
been hunted much in those parts at that time,
and the Indians kill them on foot very often.
If Indians could do that, why could not white
men?
The next two days were occupied in prepara-
tions for the expedition, to the great delight of
the boys, who recalled with amusement some-
thing of a similar feeling that they had when
they were preparing for their trip to Kansas, long
ago, away back in Dixon. How far off that all
seemed now! Now they were in the promised
land and were going out to hunt for big game
buffalo It seemed too good to be true.
Bread was made and baked; smoked side-
meat, and pepper and salt made ready and
packed; a few potatoes taken as a luxury in
camp-life; blankets, guns, and ammunition pre-
pared; and, above all, plenty of coffee already
browned and ground was packed for use. It
was a merry and a buoyant company that started
out in the early dawn of a September morning,
having snatched a hasty breakfast of which the
excited boys had scarcely time to taste. Buffalo
beef, they confidently said, was their favorite
meat. They would dine on buffalo hump, that
very day.


Oscar, more cautious than the others, asked
Younkins if they were sure to see buffalo soon.
Surely," replied he; I was out to the bend
of the Fork just above the bluffs, last night, and
the plains were just full of 'em, just simply
black-like, as it were."
What? exclaimed all three boys in a breath.
"Plains full of them and you did n't even men-
tion it! What a funny man you are."
Mr. Howell reminded them that Mr. Youn-
kins had been accustomed to see buffalo for so
long that he did not think it anything worth
mentioning that he had seen vast numbers of
the creatures already. So, as they pressed on,
the boys strained their eyes in the distance, look-
ing for buffalo. But no animals greeted their
sight, as they passed over the long green swales
of the prairie, mile after mile, now rising to
the top of a little eminence and now sinking
into a shallow valley; but occasionally a sneak-
ing, stealthy coyote would noiselessly trot into
view, and then, after cautiously surveying them
from a distance, disappear, as Sandy said, "as
if he had sunk into a hole in the ground." It
was in vain that they attempted to get near
enough to one of these wary animals to warrant
a shot. It is only by great good luck that any-
body ever shoots a coyote, although in countries
where they abound every man's hand is against
them; they are such arrant thieves, as well as
cowards.
But at noon, while the little party was taking
a luncheon in the shade of a solitary birch that
grew by the side of a little creek, or runlet,
Sandy, the irrepressible, with his bread and meat
in his hand, darted off to the next roll of the
prairie, a high and swelling hill, in fact, to see
what he could see." As soon as the lad had
reached the highest part of the swale, he turned
around and swung his arms excitedly, too far
off to make his voice heard. He jumped up
and down, whirled his arms, and acted altogether
like a young lunatic.
The boy sees buffalo," said Younkins, with
a smile of calm amusement. He could hardly
understand why anybody should be excited over
so commonplace a matter. But the other two
lads were off like a shot in Sandy's direction.
Reaching their comrade, they found him in a
state of great agitation. Oh. look at 'em!


[MAY,


512





THE BOY SETTLERS.


Look at 'em! Millions on millions! Did any-
body ever see the like! "
Perhaps Sandy's estimate of the numbers was
a little exaggerated, but it really was a wonder-
ful sight. The rolls of the prairie, four or five
miles away, were dark with the vast and slow-
moving herds that were passing over, their gen-
eral direction being toward the spot on which
the boys were standing. Now and again, some
animals strayed off in broken parties, but for the
most part the phalanx seemed to be solid, so
solid that the green of the earth was completely
hidden by the dense herd.
The boys stood rooted to the spot with
the intensity of their wonder and delight. If
there were not millions in that vast army of buf-
falo, there were certainly hundreds of thousands.
What would happen if that great army should
suddenly take a notion to gallop furiously in
their direction?
You need n't whisper so," said Charlie, no-
ticing the awe-struck tones of the youngsters.
"They can't hear you, away off there. Why,
the very nearest of the herd cannot be less than
five miles off; and they would run from us,
rather than toward us, if they were to see and
hear us."
I asked Younkins if he ever had any trouble
with a buffalo when he was hunting, and what
do you suppose he said? asked Oscar, who had
recovered his voice. Well, he said that once he
was out on horseback, and had cornered a young
buffalo bull in among some limestone ledges up
there on the Upper Fork, and the critter turned
on him and made a nasty noise with his mouth-
like,' so that he was glad to turn and run.
'Nasty noise with his mouth,' I suppose was a
sort of a snort-a snort-like, as Younkins would
say. There come the rest of the folks. My!
won't daddy be provoked that we did n't go
back and help hitch up!"
But the elders of the party had not forgotten
that they were once boys themselves, and when
they reached the point on which the lads stood
surveying the sight, they also were stirred to en-
thusiasm. The great herd was still moving on,
the dark folds of the moving mass undulating
like the waves of a sea, as the buffalo rose and
fell upon the surface of the rolling prairie.
As if the leaders had spied the hunters, the


main herd now swung away more to the right,
or northward, only a few detached parties com-
ing toward the little group of hunters that still
watched them silently from its elevated point
of observation.
Younkins surveyed the movement critically
and then announced it as his opinion that the
herd was bound for the waters of the Republi-
can Fork, to the right and somewhat to the
northward of the party. The best course for
them to take now would be to try and cut off
the animals before they could reach the river.
There was a steep and bluffy bank at the point
for which the buffalo seemed to be aiming; that
would divert them further up stream, and if the
hunters could only creep along in the low gullies
of the prairie, out of the sight of the herd, they
might reach the place where the buffalo would
cross before they could get there; for the herd
moved slowly; an expert walker could far out-
travel them in a direct line.
One of you boys will have to stay here by
the stuff; the rest of us will press on in the
direction of the river as fast as may be," said
.Uncle Aleck. The boys looked at each other
in dismay. Who would be willing to be left
behind in a chase so exciting as this ? Sandy
bravely solved the puzzle.
"Here, you take my shot-gun, Charlie," he
said. It carries farther than yours; I '11 stay
by the stuff and the horses; I 'm pretty tired,
anyhow." His father smiled approvingly but
said nothing. He knew how great a sacrifice
the boy was making for the others.
Left alone on the hill-top, for the rest of the
party moved silently and swiftly away to the
northward, Sandy felt the bitterness of disap-
pointment as well as of loneliness while he sat
on the grass watching with absorbed attention
the motions of the great herds. All trace of his
companions was soon lost as they passed down
into the gullies and ravines that broke the ground
adjacent to the Fork to the westward of the
stream. Once, indeed, he saw the figures of
the hunters, painted dark against the sky, rise
over a distant swale and disappear just as one
of them turned and waved a signal in dumb
show to the solitary watcher on the hill.
"If those buffalo should get stampeded,"
mused Sandy, and make a break in this way, it






THE BOY SETTLERS.


would be' all day' with those horses and the camp
stuff. I guess I had better make all fast, for there
may be a gale of wind, or a gale of buffalo, which
is the same thing." So saying, the thoughtful lad
led the animals down into the gully where the
noon luncheon had been taken, removed their
packs, tethered them to the tree, and then ran
back to the hill-top and resumed his watch.
There was no change in the situation except
that there were, if possible, more buffalo moving
over the distant slopes of the rolling prairie.
The boy stood entranced at the sight. More,
more, and yet more of the herds were slowly
moving into sight and then disappearing in the
gullies below. The dark brown folds seemed to
envelop the face of the earth. Sandy wondered
where so many creatures could find pasturage.
Their bodies appeared to cover the hills and
valleys, so that there could not be room left for
grazing. "They 've got such big feet," he solilo-
quized aloud, "that I should think that the
ground would be all pawed up where they have
traveled." In the ecstasy of his admiration, he
walked to and fro on the hill-top, talking to
himself, as was his wont.
I wonder if the other fellows can see them
as I do? he asked. I don't believe, after
all, that it is one-half so entertaining for them
as it is for me. Oh, I just wish the folks at
home could be here now, and see this sight!
It beats all nature, as Father Dixon used to say.
And to think that there are thousands of people
in big cities who don't have meat enough to
eat. And all this buffalo-meat running wild!"
The boy laughed to himself at the comicality
of the thought. Fresh beef running wild!
The faint report of a gun fired afar off
now reached his ear and he saw a blue puff of
smoke rising from the crest of a timber-bordered
hill far away. The herd in that direction seemed
to swerve somewhat and scatter, but, to his
intense surprise, there was no hurry in their
movements; the brown and black folds of the
great mass of animals still slowly and sluggishly
spread out and flowed like the tides of the sea,
enveloping everything. Suddenly there was
another report, then another, and another.
Three shots in quick succession.
Now they are getting in their work!"
shouted the boy, fairly dancing up and down


in his excitement. Oh, I wish I was there
instead of here looking on! "
Now the herds wavered for a moment, then
their general direction was changed from the
northward to the eastward. Then there was a
swift and sudden movement of the whole mass,
and the vast dark stream flowed in a direction
parallel with the Fork instead of toward it, as
heretofore.
They are coming this way shouted Sandy
to the empty, silent air around him. I '11 get
a shot at 'em yet! Then, suddenly recollect-
ing that his gun had been exchanged for his
brother's, he added, "And Charlie's gun is no
good!"
In truth, the herd was now bound straight for
the hill on which the boy maintained his soli-
tary watch. Swiftly running down to the gully
in which the horses were tethered, Sandy got
out his brother's gun and carefully examined
the caps and the load. They had run some
heavy slugs of lead in a rude mold which they
had made, the slug being just the size of the
barrel of the shot-gun. One barrel was loaded
with a heavy charge of buckshot, and the other
with a slug. The latter was an experiment,
and a big slug like that could not be expected
to carry very far; it might, however, do much
damage at short range.
Running up to the head of the gully, which
was in the nature of a shallow ravine draining
the hill above, Sandy emerged on the highest
point of land, a few hundred feet to the right
and north of his former post of observation.
The herd was in full drive directly toward him.
Suppose they should come driving down over
the hills where he was! They would sweep
down into the gully, stampede the horses, and
trample all the camp-stuff into bits! The boy
fairly shook with excitement as the idea struck
him. On they came, the solid ground shaking
under their thundering tread.
I must try to head 'em off," said the boy to
himself. The least I can do is to scare them
a good bit, and then they '11 split in two and the
herd will divide right here. But I must get a
shot at one, or the other fellows will laugh
at me."
The rushing herd was headed right for the
spot where Sandy stood, spreading out to the


[MAY,






THE BOY SETTLERS.


left and right, but with the center of the pha-
lanx steering in a bee-line for the lad. Thor-
oughly alarmed now, Sandy looked around,
and perceiving a sharp outcropping of the
underlying stratum of limestone at the head
of the little ravine, he resolved to shelter him-
self behind that, in case the buffalo should con-
tinue to come that way. Notwithstanding his
excitement, the lad did not fail to note two
discharges, one after the other, in the distance,
showing that his friends were still keeping up a
fusillade against the flying herds.
At the second shot, Sandy thought that the
masses in the rear swung off more to the south-
ward, as if panic-stricken by the firing, but the
advance guard still maintained a straight line
for him. There was no escape from it now,
and Sandy looked down at the two horses teth-
ered in the ravine below, peacefully grazing the
short thick grass, unconscious of the flood of
buffalo now undulating over the prairie above
them and soon to swoop down over the hillside
where they were. In another instant, the lad
could see the tossing, shaggy manes of the
leaders of the herd and could even distinguish
the redness of their eyes as they swept up the
incline at the head of which he stood. He
hastily dodged behind the crag of rock; it was
a small affair, hardly higher than his head, but
wide enough, he thought, to divide the herd
when they came to it. So he ducked behind it
and waited for coming events.
Sandy was right. Just above the rock be-
hind which he was crouched, the ground fell
off rapidly and left a stiff slope, up which even
a stampeded buffalo would hardly climb. The
ground trembled as the vast army of living
creatures came tumbling and thundering over
the prairie. Sandy, stooping behind the out-
cropping, also trembled, partly with excitement
and partly with fear. If the buffalo were to
plunge over the very small barrier between him
and them, his-fate was sealed. For an instant,
his heart stood still. It was but for an instant,
for, before he could draw a long breath, the
herd parted on the two sides of the little crag.
The divided stream poured down on both sides
of him, a tumultuous, broken and disorderly
torrent of animals, making no sound except for
the ceaseless beat of their tremendous hoofs.


Sandy's eyes swam with the bewildering mo-
tion of the living stream. For a brief space,
he saw nothing but a confused mass of heads,
backs and horns, hundreds of thousands flow-
ing tumultuously past. Gradually, his sense of
security came back to him, and, exulting in his
safety, he raised his gun, and muttering under
his breath, Right behind the fore-shoulder-
like, Younkins said," he took steady aim and
fired. A young buffalo bull tumbled headlong
down the ravine. In their mad haste, a num-
ber of the animals fell over him, pell-mell; but,
recovering themselves with incredible swiftness,
they skipped to their feet and were speedily on
their way down the hill. Sandy watched, with
a beating heart, the young bull as he fell heels
over head two or three times before he could
rally; the poor creature got upon his feet, fell
again, and while the tender-hearted boy hesi-
tated whether to fire the second barrel or not,
finally fell over on his side helpless.
Meanwhile, the ranks of buffalo coming behind
swerved from the fallen animal to the left and
right, as if by instinct, leaving an open space
all around the point where the boy stood gazing
at his fallen game. He fired, almost at random,
at the nearest of the flying buffalo, but the buck-
shot whistled hurtlessly among the herd, and
Sandy thought to himself that it was downright
cruelty to shoot among them, for the scattering
shot would only wound without killing the ani-
mals.
It was safe now for Sandy to emerge from
his place of concealment, and, standing on the
rocky point behind which he had been hidden,
he gazed to the west and north. The tumbling
masses of buffalo were scattered far apart. Here
and there, he could see wide stretches of prairie,
no longer green, but trampled into a dull brown
by the tread of myriads of hurrying feet; and,
far to the north, the land was clear, as if the
main herd had passed down to the southward.
Scattered bands still hurried along above him,
here and there, nearer to the Fork, but the main
herd had gone on in the general direction of the
settlers' home.
What if they have gone down to our cabin ?"
he muttered aloud. It 's all up with any corn-
field that they run across. But, then, they must
have kept too far to the south to get anywhere





THE BOY SETTLERS.


near our claim." And the lad consoled himself
with this reflection.
But his game was more engrossing of his at-
tention, just now, than anything else. He had
been taught that an animal should not bleed to
death through a gunshot wound. His big leaden
slug had gone directly through the buffalo's


bs.

_______ a


Well done, Sandy!" The boy started, turned
and beheld his cousin Oscar gazing open-
mouthed at the spectacle. And did you shoot
him, all by your very own self? What with ?
Charlie's gun? The lad poured forth a tor-
rent of questions, and Sandy proudly answered
them all with, "That is what I did."


~~.v. 'IJ


*,, J
"HE U T..HE '-"





I _
"HE GENTLY TOUCHED THE ANIMAL WITH THE TOE OF HIS BOOT AND CRIED, (ALL BY MY OWN SELF!'"


vitals somewhere, for it was now quite dead.
Sandy stood beside the noble beast with a strange
elation, looking at it before he could make up
his mind to cut its throat and let out the
blood. It was a yearling bull buffalo that lay
before him, the short, sharp horns plowed into
the ground and the massive form, so lately bound-
ing over the rolling prairie, forever still. To
Sandy, it all seemed like a dream; it had come
and gone so quickly. His heart misgave him
as he looked, for Sandy had a tender heart.
Then he gently touched the animal with the
toe of his boot and cried, "All by my own
self! "


As the two boys hung with delight over the
prostrate beast, Oscar told the tale of disap-
pointment that the others had to relate. They
had gone up the ravines that skirted the Fork,
prowling on their hands and knees; but the
watchers of the herd were too wary to let the
hunters get near enough for a good shot. They
had fired several times, but had brought down
nothing. Sandy had heard the shots? Yes,
Sandy had heard and had hoped that somebody
was having great sport. After all, he thought, as
he looked at the fallen monarch of the prairie,
it was rather cruel business. Oscar did not
think so; he wished he had had such luck.


516


[MAY,






THE BOY SETTLERS.


The rest of the party now came up, one after
another, and all gave a whoop of astonishment
and delight at Sandy's great success as soon as
they saw his noble quarry.
The sun was now low in the west; here was
a good place for camping; a little brush would
do for firing, and water was close at hand. So
the tired hunters, after a brief rest while they
lay on the trampled grass and recounted the
doings of the day, went to work at the game.
The animal was dressed and a few choice pieces
were hung on the tree to cool for their supper.
It was dark when they gathered around their
cheerful fire, as the cool autumnal evening came
on, and cooked and ate with infinite zest their
first buffalo-meat. Boys who have never been
hungry with the hunger of a long tramp over
the prairies, hungry for their first taste of big
game of their own shooting, cannot possibly
understand how good to the Boy Settlers was
their supper on the wind-swept slopes of the
Kansas plains.
Wrapping themselves as best they could in
the blankets and buffalo-robes brought from
home, the party lay down in the nooks and
corners of the ravine, first securing the buffalo
meat on the tree that made their camp.
What, for goodness' sake, is that ?" asked
Charlie, querulously, as he was roused out of
his sleep by a dismal cry not far away in the
darkness.
Wolves," said Younkins, curtly, as he raised
himself on one elbow to listen. "The pesky
critters have smelt blood; they would smell it
if they were twenty miles off, I do believe, and
they are gathering round as they scent the
carcass."
By this, all of the party were awake except
Sandy, who, worn out with excitement perhaps,


slept on through all the fearful din. The mean
little prairie-wolves gathered, and barked and
snarled in the distance. Nearer, the big wolves
howled like great dogs, their long howl occa-
sionally breaking into a bark; and farther and
farther off, away in the extremest distance, they
could hear other wolves whose hollow-sounding
cry seemed like an echo of their more fortunate
brethren nearer the game. A party of the crea-
tures were busy at the offal from the slain buffalo,
just without the range of the firelight, for the
camp-fire had been kept alight. Into the strug-
gling, snarling group Younkins discharged his
rifle. There was a sharp yell of pain, a confused
patter of hurrying feet, and in an instant all
was still.
Sandy started up. Who 's shot another
buffalo?" he asked, as if struggling with a
dream. The others laughed, and Charlie ex-
plained what had been going on, and the tired
boy lay down to sleep again. But that was not
a restful night for any of the campers. The
wolves renewed their howling. The hunters
were able to snatch only a few breaths of sleep
from time to time, in moments when the dismal
ululation of the wolf-chorus subsided. The sun
rose, flooding the rolling prairies with a wealth
of golden sunshine. The weary campers looked
over the expanse around them, but not a rem-
nant of the rejected remains of the buffalo was
to be seen; and in all the landscape about, no
sign of any living thing was in sight, save where
some early-rising jack-rabbit scudded over the
torn sod, hunting for his breakfast.
Fresh air, bright sunlight, and a dip in a cool
stream are the best correctives for a head heavy
with want of sleep; and the hunters, refreshed
by these and a pot of strong and steaming
coffee, were soon ready for another day's sport.


(To be continued.)


x89g.]


517










HOBBY-HORSES.


By A. C.


RIDING "HOBBY-HORSES" IN THE STREETS OF OLD N'W YORK.
REVERSE the last two figures of this present and circumstance, one of these wide-awake
year of grace, and you will have the date of a grandsons could come suddenly upon a group
period which saw many otherwise sane men in of his ancestors engaged as the artist has shown
France, England, and America given over to them in the accompanying picture, he would
an absurd craze for riding "hobby-horses," probably conclude that they had taken leave
and there are doubtless a number of venera- of their senses, and hurl after them a scornful
ble old gentlemen still living who could tell of Go it, Gaiters! Cranks Cranks "
memories, and perhaps even recall personal ex- And in so expressing his candid opinion
periences, of the time seventy years ago when in nineteenth-century slang,-which would be
young men made spectacles of themselves by quite wrong, of course,--he would unconscious-
propelling these machines through the streets ly have named the good Anglo-Saxon word
of old New York. for an idea that in the course of time was to
The grandsons of those same venerable gen- transform the machines thus arousing his ridi-
tlemen now propel wheels along the streets of cule, into the pet and pride of his boyish heart
the New York of to-day, but in a manner as -the bicycle. For, the idea of "cranks"-
different, almost, as flying differs from walking, in the mechanical sense-was precisely that
In fact, if, by some "presto-change! of time which, occurring to an ingenious Frenchman,
518





HOBBY-HORSES.


gradually, along with other changes, new ad-
justments, and improvements, covering a period
of many years, transformed the ungainly hobby-
horse of 1819 into that perfect product of
mechanical art, the bicycle of 1891.
The first rudimentary bicycle was mounted
by Baron von Drais, a Frenchman living in
Germany, who, early in this century, invented
a combination of two wheels, a seat, and han-
dles, which he called a c6l6rifere," to aid him
in his work of overseeing large estates.
The old cuts of this odd machine, called, after
the inventor, the Draisine," show it to be in
its general features the direct forerunner of the
hobby-horse. Draisines were introduced into
England in 1818, and a year later they were
seen in America, on the streets of New York.
In both countries they met with great favor,
and one historian relates that in New York
"people rode them up and down the Bowery,
and on the parks, a favorite place for speed
being the down grade from Chatham Street
to City Hall Park." Clumsy machines they
seem to our eyes,-two heavy wheels con-
nected by a cross-bar to which was attached
midway the cushioned seat for the rider. In
front of the seat was a raised cushion upon
which, handles in hand, the rider rested his
forearms, guiding the machine. He propelled
it by pushing alternately with his feet on the
ground until the speed was sufficient to maintain
equilibrium, when he would raise his feet and,
in the words of a rider of to-day, coast."
The rage for these Draisines," and "pe-
destrian curricles," or "dandy-horses" and
" hobby-horses," as the later "improved ma-
chines were called, subsided rapidly because of
the difficulty of making them practically useful,


and because of the ridicule always excited by
the riders.
This curious sport of riding two wheels,
joined, and running in the same perpendicu-
lar plane, therefore languished in obscurity
until after a lapse of more than forty years it
again attracted public attention in a new form.
It was in 1865 that a French mechanic, Pierre
Lallemant, conceived the notion of attaching
foot-cranks to the front wheel of the old-
fashioned hobby-horse. He made a machine
embodying this idea, learned to ride it, and
exhibited it at the Paris Exposition in 1867.
The credit for this invention is also claimed in
England for Edward Gilman, but be the honor
due to Frenchman or Englishman, here, at all
events, was the immediate predecessor of the
bicycle. It immediately became popular in
both England and America. A great many
improvements and changes were necessary, of
course, before the crude machine of Lallemant
-the "velocipede" of thirty years ago-be-
came the finished bicycle of to-day, but ener-
getic business men in England, and later in
this country, saw its possibilities and began the
manufacture of the machines. Improvement has
followed improvement, until now there is little
resemblance left to the old velocipede, or" bone-
shaker as it was flippantly called, and it is
difficult to imagine in what way a modern bi-
cycle may be improved. One step further is
possible in the way of change, and that is to
discard the small wheel altogether and ride
only the big wheel. Indeed, this has already
been done in exhibitions by a few adventurous
experts, but before the method becomes general
we may have learned to fly outright, and wheels
have become a drug in the market.


Al rn -bh )~_~; ,
_ _"~


519












A FEAST OF ALL NATIONS.


By MARGARET JOHNSON.


A FEAST, I have read,
There was recently spread,
Where this novel arrangement existed:
Each fortunate guest,
When his choice he expressed,
To his favorite dish was assisted.

SSaid Mikey Maguire,
k-." As he sat by the fire,
K- Faith thin, but it 's warm-
in', the hate is!
An' shure, for a party
Av appetite hearrty,
S" There 's nothing' quite ay-
qual to praties !"

Ach! Donner und
Blitz! "
MIKEY MAGUI.E. Cried fat little Fritz,
Regarding his neighbor
so bony,
Dot poy vas so droll!
I vould gif der whole
bowl
For von leedle bite of
Bologny !" "--

The fair Oumi San
Waved her beautiful
fan,


,'" A,''

(-t'j; '^
I r 1. I





',
-'4-


HANS.

" Me velly honglee!"
Said the guileless
Chung Se,
With an evident yearn-
ing for rice.
He smiled and he
sighed,
And his chopsticks
applied,
And was ready for more
in a trice.


In a serious mood
Hans, the Eskimo,
chewed
Some strips of what
might have been
rubber;
But when they in-
quired
Whether aught he
desired,
He said he wished
nothing but
blubber.


FRITZ.

As she smiled his en-
joyment to see.
She would taste of no
dish
Save an entr6e offish,
But she never once stop-
ped drinking tea!


Carissima mia! "
Cried little Maria,
" Nothing-a zo lofely as
dese "
And she fondly
surveyed,
On the table dis-
played,
Her beloved maca-
roni and cheese.


CHUNG SE.


OUMI SAN.


MARIA.






A FEAST OF ALL NATIONS.


"Aweel an' aweel,"
SaidJamie MacNeil,
" 0' whimseys an' freaks
there's amony!
But naethin' I know
Like the oatmeal I
lo'e
To make a braw lad
an' a bonny "


JAMIE MACNEIL.


"0 non!" cried
H6l6ne,
With a shrug of
disdain,
"I wish but a morceau
petit.
Nothing hot, s'il
vous plait,
But some water
sucre'e,
And a bonbon, je
vous reercie !"


i I 1 L-'fT .l i

. it



,TA

MUsTAPHA.


Mustapha, the bland,
With a wave of his
hand,
Declined to partake of
the feast,
Till the coffee was
served;
When he visibly
swerved,
And drank twenty cups,
at the least.


"Jes' hab yo' own
way,"
Said George Wash-
ington Clay,
"An' go 'long wid dose
fibs yo's a-tellun'!
Dar 's nuffin' lak
dis! "
And chuckling with
bliss,
He extinguished him-
self in a melon!


GEORGE WASHINGTON CLAY.


Quoth brave Johnny
Bull,
With his mouth
rather full,
And his waist with a
napkin begirt,
Of dainties the chief,
Is the noble roast
beef,
With plum-pudding, of
course, for des-
sert "


Wal, mebbe you 're right,"
Observed Jonathan Bright,
S--. With a wink of his
._.n merry young eye;
- ._ But for all you 're
so knownn,
The dish ain't a-
goin'
Can come up, I reckon,
to pie!"


JOHNNY BULL.


JONATHAN BRIGHT.


-:
; zaK Z,


VOL. XVIII.-39.


HiLENE.











7


J 1.~


ALL up and down the green grass
The sheep in flocks together pass;
With nibbling noses hills are sown
And where they go the sod is mown.

With thick-set tails a-wag behind-
They roam or nibble with one mind;
And if one lifts his head on high
All other heads at once up fly;


As stones in field, then stand they still;
Or run they all with single will;
And whether there is aught to leap,
All jump if jump the leader sheep.

Where learned the simple sheep such ways
No one had told in ancient days;
But now some think they learned them when
The silly sheep were silly men.


THE MANNERS OF SHEEP.

By JOHN ALBEE.











CHAN OK; A ROMANCE OF THE EASTERN SEAS.


By J. O. DAVIDSON.


CHAPTER I.
THE CREW DESERT.

T is midnight on the great Chinese
river. The silver moon rides
placidlyin the dusky heavens,
.' the circular halo around it
fading away in the damp
cold mist which thickens as
it approaches the water's surface until the hori-
zon is hid in a soft and feathery pall. Nothing
is to be seen, save the passing cormorant sailing
slowly over the river, or the occasional flash of
a fish breaking its surface; and nothing is heard
but the murmur of the vast body of water as it
moves grandly on within its distant and invisible
banks.
Presently, growing out of the misty channel
up stream, a dark object appears. It looms
large and vague, like some huge bird or bat with
outstretched wings resting on the water; but as
it sweeps majestically down the river, it shapes
itself clear and distinct against the background
of mist and soon displays the tall tapering masts
and heavy sails of a native trading-junk. As a
light gleams suddenly from behind her sail a
group of dark figures is revealed. They are
sailors; some seated, others lying asleep on the
deck. One keeps watch at the bow, while two
more, on the high stern aft, handle the tiller and
guide the great junk on her silent way.
One of the men at the helm is a tall and
powerful man whose hair is gray. He is dressed
as a common sailor, but a moonbeam's glint
on the butt of a pistol and the handle of a
short sword at his side shows him to be of some
rank above that indicated by his dress. His
companion, more slender and decidedly youth-
ful, is dressed in white duck, and wears a broad-
brimmed hat. He stands peering anxiously
forward into the gloom, occasionally sweeping
their limited horizon with a night-glass.


Presently the silence is broken by the taller,
who, quietly pointing under the bend of a sail,
whispers, Can that be their light, sir? I fan-
cied I saw the glimmer of a light yonder."
The youth brings his glass to bear, peers
through it anxiously for a moment, and answers
decidedly, Nothing there but rice-boats. It's
very strange we have not met them. Can they
have passed us in the dark ? "
No, sir; no," answers the other, "nothing
has passed us going up stream; but I did n't
like the looks of that three-masted junk as went
by us two hours ago with all her sweeps out.
She appeared to be in too much of a hurry, to
suit me; and taking her actions into account
with the failure of the company's boat to meet
us, and the suspicious doings of this crew we
have aboard, I have my doubts. It 's not
natural for junk men to use the sweeps going
down sZream, in such a fine current as this. And
I 'm certain those fellows forward are no more
sleeping than I am; for they 've been coming
on deck by twos and threes, and I heard some
of 'em whispering a while ago. For my part,
I never liked the idea of taking passengers on
these inland trips, sir, and never yet failed to
give my opinion against it; and, what 's more,
this is the first time we ever started of a Friday.
I 've always before managed to hurry or delay
loading so as to avoid that day, but this time
you would do it, in spite o' me."
But you know, Ben, we have never had any
trouble since we 've been together on the line."
"That's true, sir. I don't mean to be a
croaker, but take an old man's advice now, and
don't allow it again. I 've been in Chiny long
enough to know these river people, and they're
not to be trusted as much as the open-water
ones, Mr. Austin."
Now, Herrick, how often have I asked you
not to call me Mr. Austin ? Time was when
you always called me Frank, and we 've sailed
23






CHAN OK; A ROMANCE OF THE EASTERN SEAS.


so much together I wish you would keep to the
old name."
"Well, sir, I confess I do often feel like it,
and it 's more homelike; but since you 've had
command of your own ship, even if she be no
more than a Chinee junk, it seems more ship-
shape and sounds better before the crew, to
show you proper respect. I may do as you wish,
between ports; but as captain of this here high-


reached their ears from both sides. The barking
of dogs and the voices of men, women, and
children could from time to time be distin-
guished. Thicker and thicker grew the cluster
of boats, until it became almost impossible to
steer the large junk tlear of them.
"What does it' all mean?" Frank asked
Herrick.
Blessed if I know!" responded Ben, shaking


"IT LOOMS LARGE AND VAGUE, LIKE SOME HUGE BIRD."


tailed craft, you shall have from me all the
respect that 's due a superior officer. So, by
your leave, I '11 just splice the proper handle
to your name in future, whenever we 're on a
cruise."
A shadowy mass now loomed up on their right
and another on their left, and with his night-
glass Frank made out a fleet of river craft all
at anchor. Twinkling lights became visible,
spectral boats sped by, and strange sounds


his head dubiously. They were n't here two
weeks ago, when we came up. Maybe it's one
of those floating villages on the move as I 've
heard tell of; and, if 't is, there's no use of our
trying to get through till daylight, that 's sure.
Forward there!" called Frank to the crew.
" What are all these boats doing here ? "
"They all right an' proper boats, sir," was
the answer. Fish scarce up-side river; they
move down."


[MAY,






CHAN OK; A ROMANCE


How many of them are there ?"
"No sabey, sir. One thousand, maybe; ten
thousand, maybe. How can tell ?"
"I see no way out of this," said the young
captain, scanning the mass of boats with the
glass. It seems that we are wedged in by a
village of boats without number."
"Better anchor, sir," suggested Herrick.
"We 'll have daylight in an hour. You turn
in, sir, and I '11 watch a spell."
No, Ben; you 've been on duty since eight
bells. Go below; I '11 spell it out."
The old sailor reluctantly went below, and
Frank began his long and lonely watch on deck.
As he paced leisurely to and fro on top of the
high sloping cabin, the strangeness of his posi-
tion came vividly before him.
Two years before, he had passed up this river
in charge of his first boat-load of merchandise;
and many a successful trip had he since made,
all with old Herrick as mate and adviser. His
carefulness in the transfer of cargoes and his
general good luck in his voyages had made him
a favorite with the company. Fewer sacks of
rice or boxes of opium had been stolen from his
than from any other boat on the line, and there-
fore he had been rapidly promoted and had con-
stantly greater trusts placed in his charge.
After the novelty had worn off, Herrick often
fretted and fumed over the dull trips up and
down river.
What's the use," he often said, of paddling
up, and drifting down here again, when we might
be on blue water, with a
Stidy craft, a jolly crew,
,and a civilized cargo?
-instead of in this
highsterned, top-heavy
barn of a junk. And
such weather! Sky al-
ways blue, shore always
soft, and not wind
enough to blow out a
candle. Faugh! I mind
the yarn of a mate of
mine who sailed four
weeks in the blue
Mediterranean, with
just this weather all the
time. Why, sir, the


OF THE EASTERN SEAS. 525
ship struck a gale off the Bay of Biscay,
goin' home, that carried her masts out and left
her bottom-up with him astraddle of her keel,
a-grinnin' to his drowning mates around, and
shoutin' to them,' Aha! my boys, this is what I
calls weather! None of your soft skies and blue
zephyrs for me!'"
But despite the growling, Frank thought
highly of the old man; for he knew Herrick to
be a stanch comrade and a faithful friend.
The Chinese crew were now the young com-
mander's chief anxiety. Although they did their
work well, he often noticed that they were whis-
pering together when they thought themselves
unseen by him or Herrick. Besides, the few
Chinese passengers aboard seemed entirely too
familiar with the crew. These circumstances,
when added to the strange failure of the com-
pany's boat to meet them with provisions, as
had been agreed, and to the strange haste of
the outward-bound junks which had passed his
vessel, and his present situation, hemmed in by
the floating villagers, gave him reasonable cause
for suspecting treachery.
At length, faint streaks of dawn lightened the
surrounding fog; and, as the mist slowly cleared
before the rising sun, Frank beheld a confused
fleet of river-craft, of all shapes and sizes, lying
huddled together on every side as far as his
eye could reach. The slanting rays of the sun
struck athwart the boats, and masts, sails, oars,
and cordage caught the golden glow. The ris-
ing smoke of countless cabin-fires gave a weird


'rif,


p _2~e


- i
I :'


"THE FLOATING VILLAGE."





CHAN OK; A ROMANCE OF THE EASTERN SEAS.


effect to the scene. Gongs sounded; chickens
cackled; dogs barked; children peeped from lit-
tle latticed windows; and their parents bustled
about their morning work. It seemed as if the
whole population of some town had deserted
the land for the water.
Well, I '11 be keel-hauled! exclaimed Her-
rick as he poked his head out of the window,
" if this ain't the strangest sight I ever see. Why,
sir, it 's worse nor a hive of bees! Just listen to
their buzzing! This is no place for a Christian."
Call the men to breakfast, Ben, and then we '11
put out the sweeps and see if we can't find some
opening in the pack, there to the westward."
After issuing the necessary orders, the two
officers went below to their own breakfast.
Hardly were they seated, when they heard
stealthy footfalls overhead.
"Those fellows have no business aft, Mr.
Austin. I '11 just jump on deck and see what 's
up," said Herrick, after listening a moment.
He returned at once, with a muttered grum-
ble against all Chinamen in general, and against
their crew in particular.
"What 's the matter ? asked Frank.
"We 're in for it now, sir," Herrick answered
doggedly. "They're clean gone, every heathen
one of them, passengers and all! They cut stick
and ran for it as soon as we came below! "
What," cried Frank in amazement, are we
two alone ? "
Oh, Proddy the cook, Kanaka Joe, and the
two Malays are still on board," replied Ben.
"They '11 never forget the day you saved them
from drowning, in the straits of Malacca, when
they fell overboard in that storm."
"Then there are six of us left. Let 's go
after the crew and bring the cowards back!"
exclaimed Frank, seizing his pistols and start-
ing for the door.
Don't you do it, Mr. Frank," pleaded Ben,
putting himself before the door. "They 've
played us a nasty trick and it's pretty bad for us
as it is. Don't make matters worse by flying in
a passion. They're puzzling enough already! "
"But what are we to do, Ben? Here we are
with only six men to work the boat out of this
place!"
It 's rough, I allow, sir. But we may squeeze
through somehow," said the old man cheerfully.


CHAPTER II.
FRANK'S NEW CREW.

"WHO 's there ?" called Frank; for there
was a knock at the door. It me, sah," was
the reply in a negro's voice.
Come in, Proddy said Frank.
The door opened and admitted a coal-black
African boy, six feet in height and straight as
an arrow. He was dressed in loose folded
cloth fastened by a belt at the waist, but his
magnificent chest and shoulders were bare.
His tightly curled wool, dressed carefully and






























PRODDY,"

gathered into a point on the top of his head,
gave him a wild and almost savage appear-
ance; but the bright eyes and honest face be-
neath would at once reassure the beholder
who might have been disposed to think him
half-civilized. Beside the negro cook stood a
smaller man whose lithe, sinewy form and
swarthy face showed him to be one of the
Kanaka men "-all of whom make excellent


[MAY,






CHAN OK; A ROMANCE OF THE EASTERN SEAS.


sailors. Behind these stood two small Malays,
in the picturesque costume of their race.
Six months before, Frank had rescued these
men from a sinking junk, and they had since re-
mained efficient and faithful members of his crew.
"What is it, Proddy ? asked Frank.
"De crew all done gone run off, sah, 'cept us;
but a big coolie man just come aboard, to fine
out ef you want any help."
Frank's anxious brow cleared at these words,
and he glanced inquiringly at Ben. But the
mate only shook his head uneasily, muttering,
" Worse and worse! But perhaps you might as
well see him, eh, Mr. Frank? "
Frank nodded, and the old sailor went on,
"Show him down, Proddy."
Now, Mr. Frank, it won't do to let this chap
see that we are bothered; so let's go on with
our breakfast," suggested the mate when the
others had gone.
So they went on with the meal.
In a few moments appeared at the cabin door
the figure of a thin, sinewy coolie. He wore a
striped cloth about his waist, his pigtail was
coiled on top of his head, and he carried a
broad bamboo hat in his hand.
"What do you want ?" asked Frank
sharply.
"Chin-chin. My coolie comprador! Your
clew lun away. I many good men hab, can
show proper paper from Hong Kong side.
You make look see ?" and he extended his
testimonials to Frank.
What do you think, Ben ? asked Frank in
a low tone.
S"Well, sir, we can't get out of here without
some help; so you might as well engage him,"
replied Herrick after a moment's hesitation.
How many boys have you, John t ? Frank
asked the coolie, "and what do you want for
them? "
My hab twenty, forty, fifty, good man. How
many you like ? "
"What's your price for twenty of them to
work us to Hong Kong ?"
Can do for thirty lollar, j|" said the coolie.
"That 's too much. I '11 give twenty," said
Frank sharply.


The coolie's small eyes twinkled, for he knew
this offer was more than the ordinary price.
Nevertheless, he still appeared reluctant to take
it. Presently he replied, All light. Can do,"
and he went on deck, and, climbing nimbly
over the junk's side, disappeared into the mass
of boats around.
"What is it, Joe?" asked Frank, for the
Kanaka raised his right hand as a sign that he
wished to speak.
"He no coolie, sir!" replied Joe, pointing
after the comprador. He Mandalay man; no
good. My watch him sharp, bimeby."
"Aye, aye!" exclaimed Ben, "I think Joe is
right. Somehow neither did I think him a
proper looking coolie. If the rest of his crew
are like him, then they 're a precious gang of
cutthroats, I '11 be bound! "
I must have some crew to work the vessel.
They may be trustworthy. And can't we take
precautions against their treachery?" asked
Frank uneasily.
I hardly know, sir," answered the mate, rub-
bing his head; "but I 've an idea that one of
them guns forward there might be of some use
to us here in the cabin. But whatever we are
going to do must be done before they see we
distrust them."
"Now, boys," said Frank, rising quickly,
"bear a hand, and cast loose that second car-
ronade, and then haul it into the inner cabin.
Ben, you see to the gun; I 'll go watch for that
coolie and his gang," and Frank went on deck
and climbed into the rigging, while Herrick and
the rest dragged the cannon in and secured it.
Herrick pointed its muzzle directly toward the
cabin door, aiming it about breast-high.
Now, lads, go below and bring up all
the cartridges, rammers, gun-swabs, and cut-
lasses you can find; and don't forget to clear
out the magazine."
The moment they were gone, Ben opened a
heavy chest under one of the bunks, took out
a powder-cartridge, and loaded the gun. Then,
ripping open a canvas bag, he poured about
ten pounds of musket-balls in after the powder.
Stuffing a piece of cloth into the muzzle, he
rammed all home with the butt-end of an oar;


*"To talk. I am a coolie overseer." t Recommendation. t A name used by Europeans for any Chinaman.
11 Dollar. S "All right."






CHAN OK; A ROMANCE OF THE EASTERN SEAS.


after which he served the priming with a palm-
ing-r-cdle.

m en :: i b ick l,.itJ' : t .' ir', I i i. ont- itr .!'t t,]'l
m age.iin,. i '- tluinur ,ti' .. : ::o' [.ur ,--
of sig.I n [ the .l--=r :., i.t x\ lr: :ht! .,: Cii-
ished. H erii._k turin.-:. tro: ih.- ii r- m ili :i : l:
m a N .: I ii'1 %' u w.L i'l: Ii I1, t1_Ii i- .t .r,
queer :-i l ri :t :,t:I ctl! :,rt p: Ii; i. .i
but il' rli.-. H l 'iri ..i- r ,' i Nr .
th is j,,riI: ritri ,:,) 1 l.-,n it I t ,,,t I .ti.t. i tii t ,ln .
g un -'., llt-i -'ift. B uI t l ', '; *-i:]-e :' .r I 1i i
gun p.t -". *:l- _r iii 110,+ 1:]e:r ,,.. lti 1 'i' ..
m atch t i!l l,- vc 1,r ,. t ,-r;-it' tk ii
splinr,:r,: it' .i.,,c ht :- -, hii -r u-. N ,'.t. 1
belies,,: 'Ou :iru: !! triie n,+: ; l.u I u -.,l:1
like i... hEi:,r 1,1:.u V:, : 1, h,1 o: u .%! i. t ,A lth.
M r. Au -rtiri ,-,r rt,,+ ,>:,,:,h.s ?. "


r'N


'I


Pl_-


U~~~.


THE NEW CREW COMES ABOARD.


We '11 stand by the captain, of course," they
replied promptly and with evident good-will.
Very well then, lads, come forward with me
and spike every gun; and we must be sure
the priming-covers are replaced so the spiking
won't be seen."
Hardly was this work done, when a hail from
Frank gave notice of the coming of the new
crew.
Running to the side the men saw, jumping
from boat to boat, a motley gang of coolies
intermixed with local sailors. Mounting the


junk's side, the new-comers formed a line for-
ward, taking their places as their leader called
their names in succession.
When the last man was in line, the chief
coolie, turning to Frank, salaamed and said re-
spectfully: "Twenty proper men hab got, sir.
You wantchee get under way ? "
"Yes," replied Frank, as soon as you can."
A few orders from the comprador sent the
crew to their posts, and, amid great splashing and
shoving, the junk was backed out of the press
of boats. Skirting the edges of the throng they


[MAY,





CHAN OK; A ROMANCE OF THE EASTERN SEAS.


turned toward an opening not before apparent.
Entering this, they were soon gliding down
stream again, through the more scattered por-
tions of the floating village.
They do their work well," remarked Frank,
noting the regular beat of the sweeps as they
rose and fell in the hands of the new crew, and
vigorously urged the junk onward.
"Too- well to please me!" growled Ben.
" No picked up gang ever handled sweeps like
that! Mind how they work together."
Frank could not but see the significance of
this shrewd remark. For, despite their ragged
and slovenly appearance, the men did every-
thing with a precision and certainty which only
long training together can give to a crew.
"Here comes a breeze, sir; just try them at
the sails," was the mate's next suggestion. Frank
gave the necessary orders. He kept a sharp
lookout upon the sailors, and anxiously awaited
the result. Gladly would he have seen them
bungle over the work, but the result confirmed
Ben's worst suspicions. Instead of rushing from
the sweeps all together and scrambling for the


to the coolie, with pretended approval. "You've
a smart set of fellows there!" But as he passed
Frank he muttered: It 's all up with us, sir.
They're old hands, just as I suspected. We '11
have to fight afore long."
But they won't dare do anything while we 're
here in the crowded river," responded Frank in
a low tone.
No, sir; not unless we let them see we sus-
pect them. We must keep a sharp lookout for
some ship on the way down, and get help if pos-
sible. If that chance fails us, we 're gone, sure!"

CHAPTER III.
THE NIGHT ATTACK.
THE crew being now at liberty were lounging
about the deck or lay sleeping in groups under
the shadow of sail, deck-house, or mast; and a
few gathered near the galley to eat the rations
of rice and fish for tiffin.* Everything, so far
as outward appearances went, denoted a calm
and peaceful voyage with a good crew and a
contented captain.


THE NEW CREW AT THE SWEEPS.

rigging in a body, as a new crew would have But, notwithstanding the apparent calm, old
done, one half remained at the oars, while a few Ben's experienced eye read everything aright,
cleared away the heavy yards and mat sails, and and discovered pre-arranged treachery in spite
others stood by the halyards to sheet home and of the cunning acting of the men. Well he
belay. Then, at a word from their leader, the knew that each one had concealed on his per-
sails were run up on both masts at once. son some deadly weapon which he would not
"Well done, old slim-shanks! shouted Ben hesitate to use whenever occasion offered.
Midday meal.






CHAN OK; A 'ROMANCE OF THE EASTERN SEAS.


The day wore on. The setting sun went down
in a blaze of glory. The damp mist brooded on
the river, and the yellow moon again rode high
in the heavens, as the boat went gliding toward
the ocean. No sign of a friendly vessel greeted
the anxious eyes of the captain and mate, as
they watched from the high after-deck; but num-
bers of the native river-craft passed them by, or
were seen lying at anchor.
After the watches for the night had been set,
a long conference was held in the cabin between
the officers and the faithful members of the for-
mer crew.
I don't fear much for to-night, sir," said Ben;
"but two of us had better stand watch at a time;
and as Mr. Austin and I are near dead for want
of sleep, I think, Proddy, that you and one of
the Malay boys had better take first watch. If
anything unusual happens, just knock three times
on the deck with the butt of your pistol."
An hour later silence reigned over the junk.
The new crew lay stretched about the deck,
seemingly buried in slumber, and the watch
passed to and fro; while Frank, Ben, and Joe,
exhausted by heat and fatigue, slept heavily in
the cabin.
It was midnight when Proddy, turning drow-
sily at the end of his usual beat, missed his fel-
low watcher, the Malay; then suddenly a sound
as of scuffling, a muttered curse in Chinese, and
the ring of a steel blade striking on the deck
startled him.
Hello dere, forward! who 's making dat
racket?" demanded Proddy. There was no
answer. He stepped out from the shadow of
the mast and saw a sight that would have ter-
rified the bravest.
Not ten feet distant was the Malay, writhing
in the grasp of a dozen men who had muffled
his cries and were attempting to make away
with him. For Proddy, to draw his revolver
and open fire on the assassins was the work of
an instant; but the pistol's flash revealed the
crouching bodies of half a dozen more of the
crew gliding stealthily along in the shadows on
both sides, to cut off his own retreat.
Desperately firing his last shot at the foremost,
Proddy bounded back through the cabin-door,
shutting and barring it just in time to escape a
shower of blows aimed at him by his pursuers.


A narrow escape that, Proddy exclaimed
Frank, as, aroused by the noises at the door, he
sprang from the berth and went to the negro's
side.
Where 's Malay Charlie ?"
Proddy hastily told what he had seen of the
crew's treachery, the attack upon the watch, and
Malay Charlie's fate. Nothing to be done
now but fight it out, and worse luck! muttered
Ben, who had joined Frank almost at once.
"Keep out of the range of that dono
Frank; they may fire through it!"
For a few minutes blows continued
the door; but then the pounding :cr
retreating footsteps were heard gbi
the bow.
After an interval, a noise as of thi trnn
of some heavy body reached them, a...u stopper
when the body had been pushed to' the cabin-
door. This sound was followed by the "'hispe.
ing of several voices outside.
Crouching on the cabin-floor, Joe puL
to the door and listened for a moment. H
back trembling as he explained to his cc
ions that one of the guns must have bet
spiked, and now had been placed ready to tobw
open the door. The gun was being loaded
as they knew from the sound of a rammer driv
ing the charge home.
Now 's our time whispered Frank excite
edly, moving quickly to the breech of the can-
non in the cabin; let's fire through the door! "
No! said Ben in a hurried whisper, seizing
the young man's arm. Cram yourselves into
the corners, each side the door, and stand ready!
Don't stir till after I fire!"
So saying he threw himself down behind the
gun, lanyard in hand. Scarcely was he well
sheltered behind the gun, than, with a blinding
flash and thunderous roar, the door was splin-
tered into a thousand fragments. The gun was
loaded with powder only. Instantly the room
filled with oUKe.
Ben jumped to his feet and the carronade's
answering report at once rang out through the
shattered doorway, lighting up by its flash the
mob of coolies as they pressed inward to enter
the passage. The discharge tore a terrible lane
through them, dashing a dozen to the deck.
For an instant the survivors of the carnage


530






CHAN OK; A ROMANCE OF THE EASTERN SEAS.


HERRICK ATTEMPTS TO DESTROY THE JUN
stood dismayed at the unexpected and terrible
younter-attack. Then, recovering themselves,
fe'ip missed forward and with savage yells
;d into the cabin.
vely were they met by those within.
,, cries, and pistol-shots mingled with the
ing of ringing steel blades, and a despe-
." -fight ensued in the narrow room. But
superior numbers gradually forced back Frank's


little band, and hope-
lessly hemmed them in.
At first nothing could be
seen in the darkness, and
only by sound could either
party distinguish friend or
foe; but presently one of
the assailants lit a torch,
the more easily to finish the
dastardly work, and as he
held it flaring aloft the
hopelessness of the struggle
was revealed to all. Ka-
naka Joe lay in one corner,
apparently dead, with two
coolies bending over him.
Proddy, badly wounded,
K. stood with his back to the
wall, defending himself with one hand, while
with the other he supported Frank, who had
been disabled. One glance was sufficient to
reveal all this to Herrick, and shouting "The
cruise is up, Frank, my boy!" he charged
through his assailants, bounded to the powder-
chest and tearing open the top, ran the muzzle
of his revolver deep into the powder intending
to blow up the vessel.


(To be codninbedi.)


THE PATHETIC BALLAD OF CLARINTHIA JANE LOUISA.


BY LAURA E. RICHARDS.

(To be sung to the tune of "The Monkey Married the
Baboon's Sister.")
THIS is Clarinthia Jane Louisa,
Holding her brouAc r Ebenezer.
Here he sits on the post to please her.
Happy little Iwo! T

Dog came by with a growl and a grumble,
Made Clarinthia start and stumble;
Poor Ebenezer got a tumble.
Boo, hoo, hoo, hoo, hoo!





























BY ALICE MADE WELL.


"Daffydowndilly has come up to Towne
In a white Petticoate and a greene Gowne."

Daffydowndilly, ye Spring it is fair;
Gold's on ye Tree toppes tall, gold's inye aire;
Over ye blue, blue Skye little clouds creep,
Idle as straying Lambs lost of Bo-Peepe;
Here 's little West-wind blythe, soft-stepping
down;
And Daffydowndilly has come up to Towne.


Here the young Jonquille, abashed, looking
down
Since Daffydowndilly has come up to Towne.


(4j1


Daffydowndilly, here's faire Companie,
Drest all soe lady-fine, welcoming Thee.
Here be Miss Violet, daintie and shye,
Dame Perrywinkle frock blue as ye Skye;


Here be ye Grasses all, thriftiest Folk,
Heeding not wind nor rain, smiling through
Smoke.
E'en twixtt ye cobblestones bravely they're
peeping,
E'en on ye Roof soe high they're a-house-
keeping;
All o'er our Plat they've been greening ye
browne
'Gainst Daffydowndilly should come up to
Towne.


I'
7~a-
r-,


cs


1
I -LifP:; c
i
IY/D
\i ii


.~~-9
Pi






APRIL GUESTS. 533

He's counting his money; he'll put on his
Crowne,
Now Daffydowndilly has come up to Towne.


Daffydowndilly, brave Sights you shall see:
Wise Men of Gotham-most wonderful
Three;
See Humpty-Dumpty; ye King and ye Queene.
She's making tartest tartes ever were seen;






--.r ..


.- ,ii I .. ... -


^*~


Sing, little Byrdies all! Sing, sing aloud,
Cock-Robin Red o' breast, valiant and proud!
Sweet Phebe Peewee, come, swell out your
throat!
Chirp, Dicky Sparrow, with livelyest note!
Chaunt all ye Frogs in ye Rushes soe browne!
For Daffydowndilly has come up to Towne.

" Daffydowndilly has come up to Towne,
In a white Petticoate and a greene Gowne."





































GOING TO THE POND IN CENTRAL PARK.


A LESSON IN HAPPINESS.


By W. J. HENDERSON.


ONE morning Eben Bonabben, the sage, said
to his pupil Hafiz:
My son, what would you be ?"
I would be rich and great," said Hafiz.
The sage shook his head and answered in a
grave tone:
It is very difficult to be either of these, and
it is almost impossible to be both."
But Hafiz persisted in his desire and declared
that at any rate the emperor was rich and
great.
Then Eben Bonabben said:
Let us go forth into the city that we may
learn how these things are."
So saying, he took up his staff and led the


way into the busy streets, Hafiz walking in
expectancy by his side. Presently they came
to a bookseller's, and Hafiz, looking at the
shelves, exclaimed:
"Behold! Here is a new book written by
Imam, the most delectable writer of our people.
Surely, he is great, and I am persuaded that
he must be very rich, for all the world praises
him."
Come, then," said Eben Bonabben, "let us
go to the house of Imam, and he himself shall
show us his riches, for he is my familiar friend."
And the sage turned aside from the principal
avenue of the city and led the way down a
humble side street, where the pavements were






A LESSON IN HAPPINESS.


not of stone, and the children wore no sandals.
And when they had gone a long distance, they
paused before a small house, at the window of
which sat an old man, bent double, writing
rapidly.
"That," said Eben Bonabben to Hafiz, "is
Imam. I shall address him. Ho, Imam!" he
continued, lifting up his voice, what do you
there ? "
And Imam, without raising his head, replied:
I write, and write, and write."
"What write you ?"
"Words, words, words. I arise early and
retire late. And all the day, save when I go to
the publishers, I write; and my soul is weary,
but there is no rest."
"But are you not rich?"
Yes, I have a wife and four children whom
I love better than diamonds; and that I may
not lose these riches I write, and write, and
write, or they will perish of hunger."
"But to write is easy."
"Ten long years, Eben Bonabben, did I
write before men would read. And in that
time I read many hundreds of books in order
that I might learn. And my brain was filled,
but my stomach yearned for food."
But surely you are a great man."
Men tell me so; but I would rather be rich.
Tell your pupil that if he would be rich, he must
not write. Farewell."
And Hafiz perceived that Imam spoke the
truth. Then Eben Bonabben led the way to
the house of Abdul Kar, the wealthy merchant.
It was yet early in the day, and Abdul Kar was
just setting out for his warehouse.
I pray you stay but a moment," said Eben
Bonabben, and tell my pupil whether you are
rich and great."
"I have many thousands of money in my
strong boxes," said Abdul; "but the Sacred
College of Immortals laughs at me and says
that I am an ignorant man who has nothing but
money."
Yet it is easy to get money."
Is it, indeed ? Truly, Eben Bonabben, you
speak of what you know not. From early morn
till late at night for twoscore years I have
labored like a pack-mule of the mountains, and
at last I am rich. And still must I labor early


and late in order that I may keep my riches.
And I may not enjoy them, but shall die and
leave them to my heirs, who will quarrel over
them. Farewell! I must hasten to my shop,
or I shall be robbed by my salesmen."
And Hafiz perceived that Abdul Kar labored
as hard to be rich as Imam did to be great, and
that neither was satisfied. Then he said to Eben
Bonabben:
"I have heard that Ahmed is a wonderful
painter. Surely he is rich and great and his
work is easy."
Let us go to his house," said Eben Bonab-
ben, leading the way once more.
Ahmed received them courteously in his
studio, where he was at work. Hafiz admired
the beautiful picture on the easel, and said:
"And will you paint another to-morrow ?"
"No," replied Ahmed, "nor in a hundred
to-morrows."
Hafiz did not understand, and Ahmed, per-
ceiving his difficulty, continued:
"It is first necessary to make the picture
here," and with that he laid his hand upon his
heart; "and next, it must be made here," and
he laid his hand upon his brain; "and next it
must be made here," and he pointed with his
left hand to his right hand.
"I will discover your meaning to my pupil,"
said Eben Bonabben. "First, you must have
boundless love out of which the beautiful is con-
ceived; second, you must have deep thought,
by which the beautiful is defined; and third,
you must have the trained hand, by which the
beautiful is revealed. Do I speak rightly ?"
"Like the sage that you are, Eben Bonab-
ben," answered Ahmed. "But, for the training
of the hand, the heart and the brain must be
patient through years of irksome toil."
"But you are great," said Eben Bonabben.
"Men say so," answered Ahmed, bowing his
head.
"And you are rich," said Eben Bonabben.
In my art, yes. But horses and camels and
oxen have I none, and of silver and gold I
have sufficient for my wants, which are not
many."
Then Eben Bonabben and Hafiz departed
in silence. But presently Hafiz, regaining his
courage, said:





A LESSON IN HAPPINESS.


There is yet one more man. There is Habib,
who plays upon the strange instrument with
many keys, and makes music which causes even
the sultan to weep with joy. Surely, he is both
rich and great."
So Eben Bonabben led the way to the house
of Habib, which was in a much worse street
than that of Imam. And again Eben Bonab-
ben propounded the nature of their inquiry,
whereat Habib tore his hair.
"Rich and great? I, alas! that am forced
to teach the foolish and the frivolous and the
stupid ten hours a day until their execrable per-
formances have twisted my senses into a snarl
that borders on lunacy, and then must sit down
and practise four hours that I may not lose that
skill which cost me six hours' labor a day for
ten years to acquire! I rich and great!" he
exclaimed, with a bitter laugh.
"But," cried Hafiz, alarmed by this out-
burst, your four hours of labor are devoted to


the performance of such music as never man
heard before."
"Oh, ignorance! cried Habib. "Listen;
this is what I must practise."
And seating himself before his instrument,
he played scales and exercises in dreary repe-
tition till Hafiz, finding himself grow faint, threw
up his hands in despair and rushed into the
street, followed by the sage.
"Oh, Eben Bonabben!" he cried, this is
the worst of all. Now do I truly perceive that
it is only by grievous labor that one can become
great or rich, and that greatness does not bring
riches, nor riches greatness. Tell me, I beseech
you, how shall I live?"
"Thus," replied Eben Bonabben. Do that
work which is allotted to you in this world with
all your heart and all your strength, and think
naught of riches nor of greatness. For one
must find happiness in one's work, and not in
what it brings."


-"Lb '





I had a little row boat.,. ."
,. LA It was called the "Mary Jane"
J, .And I always kept it fastened
._ ....h ,n- -



But it somehow got &Float oneda- t
And drifted out to sea;iy-
And now I often wonder where..
The "Mary Jane" can be-- -
-- -,_, .... ,., 4 -
v~.-: ---' _.:-% 7 --A --











THE FORTUNES OF TOBY TRAFFORD.


BY J. T. TROWBRIDGE.


[Begun in the November number.]

CHAPTER XXV.
TOBY'S SIGNBOARDS.

TOBY TRAFFORD had an exciting story to tell
when he went home to supper; so many, and
such unexpected, things had happened that
afternoon.
His mother was surprised, and timidly doubt-
ful as to the result of his undertaking; and of
,course Mildred had to indulge in some sisterly
sarcasms at his expense. But they both were
well pleased at the spirit he showed.
"You see," he said, "the risk is very little,
,only a coat of paint for the doctor's boat, which
I can put on myself, and a good scrubbing for
the other. Then, if I buy the boat of the man
at the Springs, I am sure I can sell it again, if I
wish to, for about the price he asks. I am only
sorry I did n't begin a little earlier in the season,
so as to have the thing now in full blast. There
are a good many summer boarders in town
already, and it will be full next week. And I
believe I can scoop in some of the travel to
the Springs."
"Be careful you don't get' scooped in' yourself
by the omnibus company," replied Mildred, "if
you attempt to get away any of its patronage."
"The omnibus company is the railroad com-
pany," said Toby; "and it will be a short-sighted
policy that can't see that my boats will help it
more than they will hurt it, in the long run."
"Mr. Tazwell is one of the directors of the
company," Mrs. Trafford remarked; and start-
ing the line of coaches was his pet scheme."
"P-h-e-w! Toby whistled. "I had forgot-
ten that. I '11 have my pet scheme, too, and
set up an opposition. Why not ? I have just
as much right to run boats across the lake as
anybody has to run stages around it. Is that
Mrs. Patterson in the kitchen ? I want to see
VoL. XVIII.--4o. 5


her. Mrs. Patterson!" he called, through the
half-open door. The mother of Yellow Jacket
appeared. Have you any objection, Mrs.
Patterson, to my nailing to the corner of your
fence, opposite the depot, an upright strip of
wood, with a signboard on it, about so long
and so wide?" Toby inquired, making meas-
urements in the air with his hands, over the
supper-table.
"Not the leastest mite of objection in the
world," replied the easy-natured mother of the
wasp-catcher.
So that is settled," said Toby, after she had
withdrawn. Now, the next thing is the sign.
Milly, you 're very clever at making printing
letters. If I can get you to make some, with
a pencil, on a board, then I can paint them as
well as I did the name on the boat, and better,
too, after that practice."
"Oh, I can't make letters large enough for
that! I never did in my life," Milly protested.
"You can if you try. And you must. For
this is a job I don't want to hire anybody to
do." Toby rose from the table, in haste to exe-
cute his project. I 've got a board; shall I
bring it to the house, or will you come to the
barn, where I shall do the painting ?"
Oh dear, Toby, I can't! If you are going
into the sign-painting business, you must find
another partner," she replied, petulantly.
He argued and entreated, and finally went to
the barn to find the board he intended to use.
This he took to a small work-bench, dressed it
with a plane, divided it with a saw, and
smoothed the edges; then chose one of the
pieces, and, while waiting for Mildred, pro-
ceeded to try his own hand at outlining the
letters.
Then came a light footstep behind him, and
a musical laugh pealed forth.
Oh, Toby said Milly; who ever sus-
pected you of being such an artist? "






THE FORTUNES OF TOBY TRAFFORD.


I thought I was doing pretty well," replied
Toby, poising his pencil to criticize his work.
"'Well' is no name for it; I never saw such
original letters! That T looks as if it was just
going to swing its hat and hurrah for the
Fourth of July."


;- '.
..*-^"-..
.- ,.. *., .


-44 ;r


"'HOW SHOULD IT BE, I'D LIKE TO KNOW?'
"I was afraid I had got the T a little tipsy,"
Toby admitted.
"And the B; it's a stroke of genius! Every-
body else makes the lower loop of a B larger
than the upper; but yours are as exactly alike
as a pair of ox-bows."
"I took pains to make them just the same
size; but I thought they did n't look quite
right."
"There may be a prejudice in favor of the
other style; but do let me stand here a min-
ute and admire yours! And the 0!" Milly
exclaimed. It is actually ROUND "


How should it be, I 'd like to know? I
thought I would surely get that right; so I laid
it out with a pair of compasses."
SI thought so! What a bright idea! An 0
is generally oval; but of course you would n't
do anything so commonplace as that. And
why don't you finish
your S? As it is, it
looks like a water-
melon rind, very badly
warped."
Toby began to laugh
with her.
I thought, myself,
it looked like a cat's tail
curling both ways in a
fit. What 's the matter
with the A?"
You must have laid
that out with a square,"
said Milly. "The two
rafters meet almost at
right angles, and put
one in a dreadfully anx-
t ious state of mind, for
S fear they may spread
K still more, and let the
roof fall in. You must
make the cross-piece of
your A very firm and
strong, to prevent such
an accident."
But, joking aside,'
said the artist of these
extraordinary works,
"what do you think
ASKED TOBY." of the entire word--
BOATS ? Should n't you say it was about the
right size, and that there was enough room left
for us to put under it FOR THE THREE SPRINGS
in small letters. And here 's another idea. Why
not have a hand pointing ? Of course my work
must be changed in places."
Don't change anything said Milly.
People will think you jumbled the letters on
purpose, to convey an idea of boats tossed on
the waves."
"But I don't want to convey that idea; I
want to give an impression of smooth water,
and a pleasant voyage. So, you see, Milly,






THE FORTUNES OF TOBY TRAFFORD.


you '11 have to help me out. In fact, I was
only starting the thing, to show you how ridic-
ulous it will be unless you draw the letters
for me."
"What color are you going to have your
background ? she inquired.
"I 'm not going to paint that at all; the
plain board will look well enough, for one
season. It 's a very simple thing, you see,
Milly, if you '11 only take hold with me. Just
try once, on the other piece of board."
"I shall have to carry it into the house,
and work at it this evening," said Milly. "I
did n't think I could do it well enough to suit
you; but since I have seen-Oh, Toby!"
"All right! you may laugh," cried Toby
gaily, hastening to pass a smoothing-plane
over his own ludicrous lettering. "There!
now you may as well take both boards; for I
am going to have another sign at the wharf-
BOATS TO LET. And oh, Milly!"
"What now ? said Milly.
"Don't forget about the hand. There 's to
be a fist, you know, with one finger pointing
down the street. So!" Toby illustrated.
But I never can draw a hand."
"Yes, you can; you '11 think so, yourself,
if you leave me to try first, as I did with the
letters. I was going to clap my fist on the
board, and mark around it. See ? "
"What a head! exclaimed Milly with ironic
admiration.
"Why not?" said Toby. "I '11 be with
you in a little while; and we 'll have lots of
fun over it."
With a little laugh over her shoulder, Mil-
dred carried the boards to the house.

CHAPTER XXVI.
HOW THE SCOW WAS PAID FOR.
Now," said Toby, "I 've just got time to
go and give the doctor's boat a good washing,
before dark."
Providing himself with a pail and an old
broom, a wash-cloth and a sponge, he went
down to the wharf; where he was dashing
water and scrubbing industriously, glad at
heart, enjoying the lovely twilight and the
beauty of the lake, without consciously notic-


ing them, when Mr. Brunswick, the ice-man,
passed down the street, on his way home from
the village.
"Wal, Toby!" he said, stopping at the
wharf, and giving the boy one of his broad-
est smiles, "what ye go'n' to do with so many
boats ?"
"I am going to keep 'em to let," said Toby,
" as long as I 've no other business."
"That ain't a bad idee! You 've left the
store, Bob says. That wa' n't a bad idee, nuther.
'T wa' n't no place for you, Toby. I thought
you 'd find it out."
"Yes, I found it out." Toby, in his rubber
boots, and with his arms bare, stood beside the
boat he was cleansing, and frankly addressed
the ice-man. I was going over to see you, Mr.
Brunswick, soon as this work was done."
Ye want to borry more scows ? grinned the
ice-man.
"Not yet. I wanted to speak to you about
the one I did borrow. The pay for it."
"The pay for it ? Mr. Brunswick appeared
as if he did n't quite understand.
"If you are in a hurry for the money," said
Toby, "I can get it for you pretty soon, I think;
a friend has offered to lend it to me. But it will
suit me better if you can wait till I earn it."
"That's the right sort of talk, Toby! The
elder Bob smiled benevolently. I like to see a
young chap, or any chap, toe the mark when
he 's got an obligation to meet. But if you
thought for a minute I ever meant to make you
pay for that loss,-a boy like you !-you 're as
much mistaken as if you 'd kicked your grand-
father."
I don't just know how much mistaken that
would be," replied Toby. But I told you from
the first I would pay for the scow, if nobody else
did. And I 'm going to do it."
"And I thought," said the ice-man, "if Taz-
well did n't pay, that would place me in a mean
sort of pickle. For I could n't let you do it. To
be sure, you borryed it; but 't wa' n't no fault of
yourn that it got set fire to. You did just as
I 'd 'ave done."
"It 's very generous in you to say that!"
Toby exclaimed gratefully.
Mabby'twa' n't the most prudent thing," Mr.
Brunswick went on. But if that whelp of a Tom


539





[MAY,


THE FORTUNES OF TOBY TRAFFORD.


had set out to strike a match on a boat-load
of hay when I 'd be'n there, I 'd 'ave flung fust
his matches overboard, and then him too, like
another Jonah."
He took an envelope from his pocket, and
drew out a piece of paper, which he unfolded.
Now, I 'm happy to say the thing is settled."
"Settled! How so? cried Toby.
"I guess Tazwell is beginning' to take about
the same view of the matter I do. Jest read
that."
He passed the billet to Toby, who read in
the greatest astonishment:

DEAR SIR: I take pleasure in handing you my check
for twenty dollars, which I hear is the amount of dam-
ages you claim for the loss of your boat, burned in the
transportation of my hay. Respectfully,
THOMAS TAZWELL.

Toby looked up, speechless and incredulous.
"And the check ? he said.
"Oh, I've got that safe," chuckled the ice-man,
tapping his pocket. "I wonder what brought
him to terms ? For I heard of his sayin' on the
street that I might whistle for my money. Mad
at something' I had said, I suppose."
After his talk with me, I did n't believe he
would do it! Toby exclaimed. I shall think
better of him now."
I don't know but I will, and I don't know
as I will," said the ice-man, with a smile skir-
mishing around the corners of his mouth. "You
can't be sure what his motive was. But I guess
th' ain't nothing' the matter with the check! "
"There's a great deal of real good-nature in
people, spite of all the meanness we see and
hear of," Toby mused when once more left
alone.
He was not thinking of the act of justice his
own conduct had probably shamed Mr. Tazwell
into performing in this unexpected way. But
Mr. Brunswick's sympathizing words were still
warm in his breast; and he remembered Dr.
Patty's kindness, and all that Mr. Allerton was
doing for him, out of pure good-will. And his
heart overflowed with gratitude that there were
such good men in the world.
The twilight deepened, and the young moon
glimmered, reflected in the dancing ripples of
the lake, when Toby turned his back upon his


finished task and walked up the road, carrying
his pail and broom.
He was impatient to see how Milly was get-
ting on with the lettering of the sign; and was
delighted to find how well she was doing the
work.
"I declare, Milly he said, it's just as well
done as any sign-painter could do it. Is n't it,
Mother ?"
Mrs. Trafford, who sat by the table with her
sewing, watching her children with motherly
interest, thought it very promising.
"Now, if I can put on the paint without
overrunning the lines, it will be just perfect,"
said Toby.
I suppose you '11 spoil it with your daubing,"
said Mildred gaily. Now, about the index;
that is going to be the bother."
She held the board before her, examining her
lines in the lamplight.
"Why, no! Do as I said," cried Toby. He
laid his fist against it, for her to mark around.
"There you have it! "
"How can I mark around anything that
does n't lie flat on the surface ? Milly asked.
It is n't enough, Toby, that you are rather flat
yourself; your fist is too bunchy. Come! I've
a better -idea than that."
She placed the board against a pile of books,
at one end of the table, and set the lamp at the
other; then made Toby hold his hand, with
thumb raised and forefinger outstretched, where
the shadow from it would fall in the right place,
on a corner of the sign.
"But, don't move; if you do, you will
spoil it."
"Then let me rest my elbow somewhere," he
said, reaching for a chair. Now go ahead! "
With one knee on a cricket, and his arm on
the back of the chair, he pointed as if his finger
and thumb had been a cocked pistol, aimed at
his mother's work-bag. The silhouette cast on
the board was perfect; and Milly leaning across
from the other side of the table, where she could
work without being in her own light, made haste
to pencil the outline.
Toby wanted to get his cup of black paint
and begin filling in the letters that night; but
with a smile, Mrs. Trafford pointed at the clock.
"Yes, I know! he said, yielding reluctant


540






THE FORTUNES OF TOBY TRAFFORD.


obedience. I must go to bed. But I shall be
up at daylight in the morning."

CHAPTER XXVII.
WHAT TOBY SAW THROUGH A GLASS.

THE next day, Toby had his own boat and
the Whitehall boat ready for patrons, who,
however, did not appear. He soon began to
think they never would appear.
True, the signboards were not yet mounted;


"THE SILHOUETTE
but in the first flush of hope, he had seemed to
expect that an appreciative public would get
word of his enterprise without them, and flock
to its support. How often, he remembered, in
seasons past, boats to let had been inquired
for when there were none; and now that they
were provided, no one seemed to care for them.
Milly had outlined the letters of the second
sign, Boats to Let," and he had painted both
signs in the morning. He had begun them
before breakfast, and finished them roughly by
the middle of the forenoon.


It was a more trying and toilsome task than
the painting of the name of the Milly." The
angles of the smaller letters, and the finger and
thumb of the hand, gave him especial trouble.
Where the lines were straight, he sometimes
used strips of tin as a foil to his brush; but as
often flung them away, thinking he could do
better without them. It was fortunate the back-
grounds were unpainted; his daubs could after-
ward be erased from the plain board.
The color dried rapidly on the soft pine;










.. _



















WAS PERFECT."
and in the afternoon he went to work again,
trimming and scraping, with sandpaper and
knife and bits of glass. Sometimes he stopped
to talk with Milly, who came into the barn now
and then, to give him the benefit of her criti-
cisms. And all the while he kept an eye out
for possible patrons coming to his wharf.
Once, when gazing from the open door,
he noticed something of interest taking place
on the lake. Yellow Jacket's boat, containing
Yellow Jacket and three companions, put out
from the shore at the foot of Tazwell's lane, and


~






THE FORTUNES OF TOBY TRAFFORD.


rowed to the scene of the burning of the scow.
There it paddled about in an uncertain sort of
way, or lay adrift on the tranquil water, while
Toby could see all heads bowed over the sides,
as if peering into the de: ths below.
"It is Tom, looking for his rifle," he said,
talking aloud to himself, as boys, and even men,
sometimes will.
Tom had seemed to be quite indifferent to
the recovery of his gun, while negotiating for
Aleck's. Toby inferred that that trade had
fallen through.
It's Aleck with him, and Butter Ball, and
that is Yellow Jacket throwing off his clothes.
He is going to dive "
Toby ran into the house and brought out his
mother's opera-glass. Yellow Jacket had not
yet made a plunge. He was in the water, how-
ever, bobbing his head under now and then, and
holding his face submerged, as if to get a bet-
ter view of the bottom of the lake than was
possible with his eyes above the reflecting
surface.
They are too early in the day," said Toby,
observing every movement through his glass.
They can see better after the sun gets off the
water. Besides," lowering his glass and measur-
ing distances with his naked eye, "they are not
within five or six rods of the spot where Tom
threw his gun overboard. I could tell them
that."
Tom himself seemed to think so; for Toby
could see him pointing in the right direction.
Yellow Jacket climbed into the boat and sta-
tioned himself at the bow, while it slowly moved
farther up the lake. He put up his hand. The
oars were poised; the ripples subsided; all
heads once more bowed over the sides.
They are not in the right place yet," said
Toby; "they are too far in toward the cove.
I steered that scow, and I know just the course
it took. Ah! there goes Yellow Jacket!"
Yellow Jacket stood up on the bow a fine
model for a statue of a diver -his wet hair
pushed backward, his hands thrown upward
and forward, and the palms pressed together.
He poised himself a moment, then made a
magnificent curving leap. His heels went up,
his head went down, following his hands,
which cut the wave; there was a silvery splash


in the sunshine, and he had disappeared. A
very pretty sight through Toby's glass.
He was gone about a minute and a minute
seems a long while, not only to a diver, but to
spectators waiting to see him come up. Would
he find the gun ? And even if he did, would
he be able to bring it to the surface ? His com-
panions in the boat could hardly have been more
interested in the result than was Toby, standing
in the barn-door with his glass.
The rings of ripples from the plunge had
reached the shore of the cove on one side, and
spread far out across the lake on the other; the
water was still again all about the boat, and the
boys in it were shading their eyes, looking down
intently to discover the diver, when his drip-
ping head came quietly to the surface two or
three rods away.
Toby saw it before they did. Yellow Jacket
tossed back his wet hair, shook the little streams
of water from his face, and threw up his empty
hands.
No gun said Toby, with a laugh. The
voices of the diver and his companions came to
him across the lake. Yellow Jacket climbed
back into the boat, and in a little while dove
again in another place. Toby watched to see
him emerge once more empty-handed, then
resumed his work.
He looked out occasionally and saw that
Yellow Jacket, after diving two or three times
with no better success, finally put on his clothes.
They have given it up, for the present at
any rate," Toby said. Then, as the boat, in-
stead of returning, moved off up the lake:
"They will come back and try again after the
sun gets behind the trees."
He was leaning over a signboard which he
had set aslant on the work-bench, when some-
body stepped across the threshold behind him.
As he had both hands occupied, one holding a
strip of tin over a letter to protect it, while the
other scraped some smears from the edge of it,
he could n't conveniently look around. But he
had no doubt the comer was Milly.
"What have you got to say now ?" he asked.
"Some disagreeable fault-finding, of course!
Well! look, and be as saucy as you can!"
So saying, he drew back to let his finished
letters be seen.


542





THE FORTUNES OF TOBY TRAFFORD.


I have no occasion to be saucy or disagree-
able," said a very different voice from the one he
had expected to hear.
Mr. Allerton! he exclaimed, in consterna-
tion. I beg ten thousand hundred million
pardons! "
"For what ? said the schoolmaster quietly.
"For my blunder! For speaking so to you,"
replied the stammering and blushing Toby. I
I thought it was- somebody else! "
Then ask pardon of that somebody else, not
of me," said Mr. Allerton with a smile.

CHAPTER XXVIII.
"STRIVE, MY BOY! STRIVE "

"As for the fault-finding," the schoolmaster
continued, cutting short Toby's awkward apol-
ogies. "I have scarcely any to offer. I
would n't have believed you could design the
letters so well. You really have talent, Tobias! "
It is n't my talent, I am sorry to say," the
boy replied; "it 's my sister Mildred's. She
drew the letters, and I have been doing all I
could to spoil them with my daubing."
"Indeed, you have n't spoiled them, by any
means. After a little touching up they will look
very well. The signs won't be ready for mount-
ing till to-morrow, I suppose. For that reason
would n't this afternoon be the best time to
row across to the Springs and look at that
other boat ?"
Perhaps -but-," said Toby, doubtfully,
"I 've been thinking the thing over, and won-
dering whether it would n't be better for me to
see what I can do with the boats I have, before
getting any more."
That's a prudent consideration," replied the
schoolmaster.
The whole thing may turn out to be a miser-
able failure," said Toby.
"To be sure; quite possible," Mr. Allerton
admitted, arranging his mat of hair, while he
fanned his face with his hat.
That was not the sort of answer to his doubts
Toby had hoped to hear.
"I don't think I ought to risk very much to
begin with."
"I certainly should n't advise you to," said
the schoolmaster.


"I don't see how I am to get that other
boat," Toby went on, more and more needing
encouragement, without paying for it, and I
don't want to borrow the money, even of you."
"Quite right; it is a wise conclusion," said
Mr. Allerton. But I have an idea of my own
about that. If it is such a boat as you describe,
I think I will buy it for my own use, get you to
take care of it at your wharf, and give you the
letting of it, when you have a chance, to pay
you for your trouble."
Oh, Mr. Allerton! you are too generous!"
Toby exclaimed. "I shall be only too glad to
take care of it for you without any pay."
"We will arrange that. If it is a good row-
boat, and also carries a sail well, it is just what
I would like, and I 've no doubt you will find
a use for it."
"I hated to give up that sail! said Toby,
with rising enthusiasm.
"And now," resumed the teacher, "if you
have no objection, we will take a leisurely pull
up the lake and look at the craft."
Toby was delighted. He hastened to put on
his coat and get a pair of oars.
I am going to make a long box, that I can
lock up all my oars in, at the wharf," he said, as
they started off. I shall have plenty of lei-
sure, while waiting for customers. Too much
leisure, I am afraid," he added with a laugh.
"That is the great danger of an occupation
of that sort," Mr. Allerton replied. It may
lead to lazy habits. You must guard against
those."
But how can I ?" Toby asked. "If I at-
tend to my business, I must spend much of my
time waiting."
To be sure. But you can always have
something to take up your mind, and fill an odd
quarter of an hour. There is nothing better
for that purpose than a good book. Continue
some of the studies you were obliged to break
off when you left school. Read history, biog-
raphy, a good magazine; you will find even a
popular work on astronomy or geology ex-
tremely interesting. You can be storing your
mind and picking up bits of information which
will be of more value to you than all the money
you will make with your boats. Few people
are aware how much useful knowledge can be


1891.]





THE-FORTUNES OF TOBY TRAFFORD.


acquired in the course of a year merely by
taking advantage of the leisure moments that
might otherwise be wasted. When I was of
your age I took up Latin for my own mental
satisfaction, and, by giving an hour a day to
it, read all of Virgil before I ever had a Latin
teacher."
Oh, I never could do that!" Toby ex-
claimed.
"Perhaps not. And it is n't everybody I
would advise to undertake it: though a know-
ledge, even a slight knowledge, of some other
language, like Latin, or French, or German, is
a wonderful aid in teaching us the laws and
analogies of our own. The commonest words
we use are full of curious interest. What is
that little animal running on the fence ?" Mr.
Allerton suddenly asked.
"A red squirrel," said Toby.
"Take that word red,' "continued the school-
master. It comes to us directly from the An-
glo-Saxon, which forms the skeleton, so to speak,
of our English; but it is a root which can be
traced in many other languages, thus showing
that they are all related to one another, and to
some language probably older than any. And
the word 'squirrel'; what do you think it
means? "
It means a saucy little fellow that steals
chestnuts and sweet apples, and sometimes de-
stroys bird's eggs," replied Toby, laughing.
But the word itself- you have used it
hundreds of times, and never suspected that it
is from two Greek words, signifying shade-tail.'
You will never forget that."
No; it so exactly describes the thing!
'shade-tail!'" Toby repeated, watching the
squirrel at that moment clinging to the stem
of a tree, with its tail rolled over its back.
How many words would be just as interest-
ing if we could get at their original meaning! "
Mr. Allerton went on. Of very many we can.
What is that bird on the elm-boughs ? "
"An oriole; fire-breasted hang-bird, some
people call it, from the color of its breast, and
the way it hangs its nest in the tall trees," said
Toby. "Another name for it is the golden
robin."
"All good names," said the schoolmaster.
"The last means nearly the same as the first.


' Oriole' is a modification of the Latin aureola,
from aurum, gold. It comes to us through the
French. Aureole,' the halo of golden light with.
which painters enrich the heads of saints, is the
same word, with a different application. Then
we have auriferous,' gold-bearing, as aurifer-
ous quartz,' from auruim and fero. From the root
of fero, to bear, we have a great many words--
' prefer,' to bear before; 'differ,' to bear asunder;,
and so forth. There's no end to these deriva-
tions and analogies. What is that boy carrying
on his shoulder ? "
"We call that a 'bat,'" said Toby.
It is for striking' a ball," said his friend.
"The word bat' is from the same root as the
word 'beat' which is Anglo-Saxon; but undoubt-
edly related to the French battle, to beat, which
comes from the Latin. From these we have
two families of words, which we may call second
cousins. You 'batter' a wall. A cook makes a
'batter' by beating up ingredients. Opposing
forces meet, and there is a 'battle.' Hence also
'battalion,' battledore,' battue' (a beating of the
bushes for game),' combat,' and so on indefinitely.
It is useful to know enough of Latin merely to
understand the force of the prefixes with which
it has fairly peppered and salted our language."
"I believe I must learn a little Latin if
only a little," said Toby.
"I shall be only too glad to direct you in
that or any other study," Mr. Allerton replied.
To say nothing of what may come of it in the
future, you will be a great deal happier to have
your time and your thoughts occupied when
business is slack. Don't settle down into a
contented idler. Don't drift; set a sail of some
sort. Have a port-in view, and steer for it, even
if you never reach it. Strive, my boy! strive!"
he said, with each word giving Toby a light,
quick tap on the shoulder.

CHAPTER XXIX.
AT THE BOTTOM OF THE LAKE.

THEY were standing on the wharf. Toby
had his boat alongside, holding it with an oar,
which he used in pushing it off, after they had
stepped aboard.
Mr. Allerton insisted on rowing; and Toby,
reluctantly consenting, took the tiller. Mr.


[MAY,





THE FORTUNES OF TOBY TRAFFORD.


Allerton laid aside his coat, which he folded
carefully, and placed in the bow, with his hat.
Then he arranged his little twist of blond hair,
and tied a handkerchief on his head. Seating
himself with his back to the afternoon sun, he
adjusted the oars to the rowlocks, and pulled
with even, steady strokes, like a man who as
Toby suggested had seen a boat before.
Toby described the scene on the lake which
he had witnessed that afternoon; and said he
would like just for the fun of the thing to steer
to the spot where he thought Yellow Jacket
ought to have dived for the gun.
Now, slow, if you please, Mr. Allerton!" he
said, leaning forward with one hand on the
tiller, and the other resting on the rail. We
are on the right course; and it is just ahead.
Oh, don't I remember this spot, off the broad
cove, and what happened here, once upon a
time! There hold your oars, if you please!
Now back water! "
He took a careful survey of the surroundings,
the deep indentation of the cove, the cattails
growing by the shore, the trees on the banks,
the ice-house across the lake, and other land-
marks; and declared his belief that they were
within two or three rods of the very place where
the boat-load of hay was discovered to be on
fire.
It was very soon after that," he said, that
Tom threw his gun and his dog overboard, and
went over himself after them. I laugh when-
ever I think of it! Though I did n't see much
to laugh at, at the time."
He knelt in the bottom of the boat, with his
head bent low over the side.
"It 's a good day to look for things on the
bottom," he said; "Tom and Yellow Jacket
could n't have chosen a better. The water is
so still and clear; there has been no storm lately
to stir it up. Now, if the boat will stop rocking
and making ripples! "
But it is n't a very clean bottom," said Mr.
Allerton, with his head also bent over the shady
side of the boat. All I can see is the reflection
of my own face, with the handkerchief on my
head."
If it was a gravelly bottom, it would be easy
enough to find anything," said Toby; "for the
water here is n't more than fifteen feet deep. I


have measured it with a fish-line many a time.
It 's a muddy bottom, so near the color of the
gun that I don't believe Tom or anybody else
will ever see it again."
He might dredge for it," said Mr. Allerton.
If it was my gun, I would get a long-toothed
iron rake, lengthen the handle by lashing some
sort of pole to it, and rake till I found it. But
it seems as if we ought to see it, if it is here.
I believe I can distinguish the bottom; a brown
mud, with the sunshine on it."
"I see that," Toby replied. "And--oh!"
he suddenly exclaimed,-" off here at your
right, Mr. Allerton! "
"Something lighter-colored than the mud ?"
said the schoolmaster. I believe you are
right! "
"But what can it be?" said Toby. "It
does n't look like any part of the barrel or
stock of a rifle. It looks like the butt-end!"
"That's just what it is! Mr. Allerton ex-
claimed. The gun evidently went down muz-
zle foremost, and it is sticking up in the mud.
In the last position I should have thought of
looking for it "
"It is clear as anything to me, now you
explain it," Toby declared. "I can see a part
of the stock, where it slants down into the mud.
It is a very soft bottom all along here; nearer
the shore you can thrust a fish-pole into it six
or eight feet, with the slightest pressure."
I believe, if we had a very simple arrange-
ment, we could fish up that gun, by getting a
line around it. We have n't anything, have
we ? Mr. Allerton inquired.
I have nothing but a fish-line," said Toby.
"We might borrow one of Mr. Brunswick's
long-handled ice-hooks, and get it up with that;
if I cared to do Tom Tazwell a good turn," he
added, as if suddenly losing his interest.
"Don't you care to ? Mr. Allerton asked.
"I don't know why I should said Toby,
with gloomy recollections of his wrongs.
You ought to find satisfaction in doing him
a good turn," replied the schoolmaster. Did
you ever think seriously of what a certain book
says of returning good for evil ? "
Toby remained silent and thoughtful for a
moment. Then he said:
"We have been lucky in hitting the exact






THE FORTUNES OF TOBY TRAFFORD.


spot; if we row away without leaving some
mark, it may not be easy to find it again. I 've
an idea."
What is it ?"
"If I could get at the locker here, at the
stern, without rocking the boat see how easy
it rocks! Never mind; it will have a chance
to get still again."
Toby took from the locker a pair of galva-
nized iron rowlocks.
We can fasten an end of my fish-line to one
of these," he said, drop it down beside the gun,
and leave a float tied to the other end. Then
if we meet Tom- for he went off up the lake
with the other boys I can tell him where he
will find his rifle."
Capital!" exclaimed Mr. Allerton.
And they proceeded to carry out Toby's
plan. When the surface of the lake became
once more quiet, the rowlock was let down
carefully until it rested on the bottom, plainly
visible, within two or three feet of the gun.
For a float, Toby used the cork the fish-line had
been wound upon, making it fast by the fish-
hook at the end. When he dropped it on the
water, he was pleased to see that no part of the
line was left visible at the surface. It looked
like an old cork adrift, and nothing more.
Then they rowed away, up the lake.
There 's the little strip of meadow where we
got the hay we burned up," said Toby, after
they had passed the field of cattails by the
shore. "That belongs to Mr. Tazwell. Our
lakeside lot is just around that point of rocks."
Do you own a lot up here ? the school-
master inquired.
My mother does; twenty-five acres. It runs


up to the road. Did n't I ever tell you how
we came by it ? Mr. Tazwell turned over to
her, in place of money he owed her, a mortgage
that had to be foreclosed. It's a pretty lot,"
said Toby; "but there 's no sale for it, and all
she gets out of it is a few dollars that are paid
for the sheep and cows that are pastured on it.
Hallo!"
He heard the distant crack of a rifle, and
listened till it was repeated.
"That's Aleck Stevens's gun," he said; I
believe the boys are up on our lot. I hope
they '11 leave the swallows alone!"
"The swallows ?" queried the schoolmaster.
"We have on our lot," said Toby, "a real
curiosity,- an immense hollow tree inhabited
by swallows. There are hundreds of them; I
might say thousands. It is n't far up from the
lake; you ought to see it."
That 's just what I should like to do," said
Mr. Allerton.
It's an old chestnut-tree; the largest I ever
saw," said Toby. "The best time to see it is
after sunset, when the swallows are returning
to their nests. They come in a perfect cloud;
they circle round and round, fly off, wheel, come
back, then one by one sometimes a stream of
them in quick succession- throw up their wings,
fluttering and chippering, and drop into the top
of the trunk, as if it was a chimney. But some-
times," Toby added, "mischievous boys find
their pleasure in firing stones at the birds."
The reports of the rifle were repeated.
"I hope those fellows are not shooting at
anything but a mark! said Toby. "There's
Yellow Jacket's boat hauled up by the shore.
I '11 run mine in alongside it."


(To be continued.)




WHAT WAS IT?

By CAROLINE EVANS.

IT happened one morning a wee baby girl
Discovered what seemed like a cunning, white pearl.
But when her friends hastened to see the fine sight,
She closed its small casket and locked it up tight.


546











MY MICROSCOPE.


By MARY V. WORSTELL.


WHEN first I owned my beautiful microscope
I made a great blunder. I had some pond
water to examine, and when I found anything
peculiar in it -for instance, a body without a
head but with six horns in place of a head -
I would cry, Oh, do come quick, and see
this curious creature! It has six horns where
its head ought to be-and-look, now each
horn is growing so long you have to move the
slide to find the ends." Then they would come
crowding around, father, mother, brothers, and
sisters, and by the time they finished peering
through the brass tube, the elastic creature had
betaken himself to pastures new. But tiny as
these pastures were-an acorn's cup would
hold dozens-it was no easy matter to find
again my little runaway friend.
Then I tried a new plan. When I found
anything new and curious-and this often
happened-I would keep as still as possible,
watching carefully every movement, and not-
ing the form, so that I could afterward look
out its name and learn its peculiarities. But
my sagacious family soon discovered the ruse.
If I remained quietly observant for five min-
utes at a time, some one would say: "You 're
very much too quiet. What have you cap-
tured now? Let me see."
I write this to show that though the path of
the microscopist is strewn with roses, still a pro-
truding thorn will now and then be felt.
Another drawback to the study of microscopy
is the disproportionately long names employed
for the tiniest creatures. It is a wonder how
one so small that with the naked eye you can-
not see it at all, should survive such a name
as Stephanoceros eickornii. But it does. The
name does n't cause the creature half as much
trouble, apparently, as it causes me.
Let me tell you of some of the wonderful
things I have seen. Once I put a little hay in a
tumbler, covered it with water, and set the glass


in a warm place for a day or two. Then, with a
medicine-dropper, I put a drop of the water on a
glass slip, covered it with a very thin glass wafer
the size of a cent, placed it under my microscope,
adjusted the focus, and what a sight met my
eyes Dozens and dozens of what looked like
animated drops of jelly were darting here and
there, bumping against one another, or dodg-
ing one another like school-boys at recess.
Perhaps, among the crowd of smaller ones
would dash a much bigger fellow. I fancied
it might be a big brother, older than the others
by some hours, and so entitled to the deference
he seemed to exact. Then, in another part of
the drop of water, the little ones formed almost
a circle, and presently in the center of this came
a big fellow-he must have been at least T- of
an inch long-who began revolving slowly.
"P. T. Barnum," I thought to myself. "That
is exactly the way I have seen him address an
audience surrounding a circus ring." But I can
never know what he told the small ones, for not
even the "little ghost of an inaudible squeak"
reached my ears. Besides these little creatures,
I could see what looked like dark specks darting
about. Determined to find out what these were,
I used a stronger magnifying glass, and looking
through it the specks proved to be other little
swimmers such as I had just been examining,
and the latter, of course, seemed larger. But
now there were still other specks darting about,
so a still stronger glass was used, with the same
result. Magnify as I might, I could not reach
a point where there were not some moving
atoms needing further magnifying. I have
since learned that no glass has ever been made
powerful enough to reveal the tiniest of these
"infusoria," as they are called.
Among these same little creatures I once had
the luck to find an amwba." This I can liken
to nothing but a tiny bit of thin jelly. A sort
of arm is pushed out and then the rest of the






MY MICROSCOPE.


body draws up into the arm, until it is again
without any definite form. Then another arm-
like protuberance appears, perhaps on an en-
tirely different side, and the pulling-up process
is repeated. This is the way my amoeba gets
from place to place, and, all things considered,
it makes pretty good speed. In springtime
these little creatures may be found in great num-
bers on the under sides of lily-pads.
Among the most beautiful of pond-water ani-
mals are the vorlicellide. One of them might
almost pass for a tiny, single blossom of the
lily-of-the-valley, with a thread attached to it.
By this thread it is usually anchored to the
leaf of some water-plant.
Every few seconds, or
S minutes, the vorticella will
close up into a ball, and
Quickly sink to the leaf.
In a moment it begins
S' slowly swaying upward,
., the thread in a spiral
shape until the flower
S reaches the end of its
tether, when it straightens.
Then the cup-shaped
VLUSTER OF flower opens and a row of
tiny hairs around the edge
of the flower begin thrashing the water with
all their little might, to draw into the flower
morsels of nourishment which the water contains.
This is the usual way of feeding among these
little creatures. Sometimes a single one is found
sailing through the water and you have to move
the glass slide around very deftly to keep it in
view; for these same little hairs that secure the
food act as oars also. Once I was fortunate
enough to find a perfect colony of vorticellse,
thirty-six of them, in a single drop of water, and
all swaying up and down almost as if some
microscopical minuet were in progress.
Now, suppose these were large enough for
great, awkward human beings to handle, and
suppose one were to fasten together several
dozens of them by the ends of their thread-
like supports, till the mass looked like a wheel
of vorticelle, would it not be a most beautiful
sight? There is just such a wonderful little
creature as would be thus formed; twice I have
seen it. Its name is conochilus.


If in pond water you should find, revolving
slowly, some round balls of the loveliest green
color, and covered with a delicate network, you
may read about them in any book on microscopy,
under the heading Volvox. Inside may be seen
smaller balls of the same kind. By and by the
big ball will break open and free the little ones,
each of which will then grow and grow, until
in due time it will break open too, and still
newer balls begin their roving lives. Wherever
two meshes of the confining net cross, are two
hairs, so small that they are altogether invisible
except under a very powerful microscope.
These hairs, like those on the vorticellm, are
used in securing food and in moving about.
Volvox, however, is classified as a plant and
not as an animal.
I must not forget my friend the water-bear.
He is such a comical, clumsy fellow. He goes
slowly about on his eight little feet, poking and
plodding among the minute water-plants, al-
ways sure of finding something good to eat.
He is the very embodiment of indolent content.
Yet for all he seems so satisfied with his lot in
life, his personal appearance is not always
pleasing to himself; for at intervals he slips
bodily out of his skin, and appears in an entirely
new suit, though I must confess the general
style of the cast-off dress is retained. Instead
of throwing the old suit aside, as certain bigger
and clumsier creatures do, he gets out of it so
deftly that it stands upright and complete, even
to his four pairs of shoes.
When the mother bear slips out of her old
dress, she leaves some eggs in it. In a few days
these hatch and some baby bears begin swim-
ming around in the cast-off skin. But only for
a short time. They soon find their way to the
feeding-grounds, and at once begin climbing
slowly about, and seem as much at home as
are their parents.
But not all that is interesting for the micro-
scope is found in pond water. Look at these
scales from a butterfly's wing. Each is oblong,
and at one end are projections almost like the
fingers on a glove only these fingers are
usually slender, though sometimes you will find
them blunt and short. In summer it is easy to
secure the scales. Catch a butterfly or moth,
give its wing a gentle brush, and you will have


548






MY MICR


dozens; but in doing so, "use him as though
you loved him," as good Izaak Walton says.
Look at the little brown fan on this slide. But
did you ever see the
fan of a lady, made of \ \
so wonderful a fabric ?
Titania herself might
be proud to own this
charming plaything,
and truly it is worthy
of her. In reality it
is nothing more nor
less than an antenna
of the cockchafer, or
May-bug.
This piece of some-
thing that looks like
honeycomb we will
examine next. It :.'..
seems rather uninter- :
testing, does it not?
Hardly, when I tell.
you that each one of
those dozens and hun-
dreds of hexagonal
sections contains an .-...
eye; and an insect so SKIN OF LARVA
small as the common fly finds a pair of these
eyes very desirable. This must be the reason
that one so seldom can capture a fly, even by a
cautious flank movement. For what chance has
a creature with only two eyes, against an insect
with so many more eyes than Argus himself?
On the next slide we may see a labyrinth
very much more complicated than the Cretan
maze in which Theseus found himself when he
started out so pluckily to kill the Minotaur.
This is a bit of common sponge, so small that it
can hardly be discerned by the naked eye.
Few who have collections of butterflies ever
suspect what a marvelous little creature is to
be found preying upon these gorgeous and
beautiful insects. There is a small beetle who
rejoices in a name several sizes too large for
him. He is calledAttagenusfellio. The larva of
this beetle is about one-eighth of an inch long.
The head is very small, and the legs are short.
It casts its skin a number of times before
changing into a pupa, and these tiny, empty
skins you may find in your butterfly collection.


OSCOPE. 549

The body of the larva is covered with mi-
nute hairs of three kinds. The abdomen ter-
minates in a long tail, or pencil of hairs which


N''`


OF ATTAGENUS PELLIO; SHOWING ARROW-HAIRS.
are covered with an immense number of tiny
spines. These hairs, however, present no re-


SINGLE ARROW-HAIR.
MUCH MAGNIFIED.


markable features. Many
insects are furnished with
similar ones. Besides
these, each segment of the
larva is furnished with two
rows of club-shaped hairs,
and between these are the
wonderful "arrow-hairs."
The last three segments of
the larva are crowded with
them.
The large picture is a
photograph showing a por-
tion of the skin of the larva
(the whole skin, you re-
member, is only about one-
eighth of an inch long),
which fairly bristles with
these weapons. The small
picture shows a single hair
enlarged hundreds of times.


~
._.r





[MAY,


Just how many times you may yourselves cal- migratory arsenal), my little soldier drives one
culate when you know that fifty of these hairs of these arrows into him, and away comes the
could be crowded into the space occupied by arrow-head, broken off short at the slender neck.
If you find one of the
S..cast skins you may
handle it with impuni-
ty, because the skin of
.the finger is thick; but
S' draw it across your lip
and you experience a
burning senation.This
is because each hair is
traversed by a tube
which contains a poi-
S.sonous substance, and
[7" tIN..:,: ._C:-. so each little arrow is
really poisoned. This
n -?-".' -_,. .undoubtedlycausesin-
S.... tense pain, and prob-
ably death to the
W insect receiving it.
When an arrow is
kZ-, s ,thus broken off, a most
curious and most won-
( derful transformation
takes place. The shield
PORTION OF THE SKIN OF THE "SEA-CUCUMBER."
next to the arrow be-


the point of a fine needle. Each hair termi-
nates in an arrow-shaped point; just below it is
a shield-shaped segment, and then follow from
twenty to forty other segments, cup-shaped, and
fitting into one another, like the pretty lilac-
blossoms when you make them into chains.


"' -







ANCHOR AND PLATE, MUCH MAGNIFIED.
When another insect, an ant, for instance,
attacks this wonderful larva (and a very cou-
rageous ant it would have to be to besiege this


comes, in course of time, a new arrow and
a cup-shaped segment next to the shield be-
comes a new shield. So you see the little war-
rior may be the hero of a hundred conflicts, yet
bear no scar.*
When you have advanced far enough in the
science of microscopy to mount your own speci-
mens, you may like to have some of these skins.
In the spring or summer catch and kill half a
dozen butterflies, put them in a cardboard
box, and in a month you will have an ample
supply.
Here is a curious bit of something closely
studded with tiny anchors. As anchors are
mainly useful in water, of what value can these
miniature ones be? We are looking at a bit
of the skin of the sea-cucumber (Synapta
girardii). In shape this animal is more like a
worm than like anything else, and it moves


"* A full account of this marvelous little insect has been written by Dr. H. Hensoldt, of Columbia College, in
the Journal of the New York Microscopical Society for January, 1889. The author acknowledges her indebtedness
to Dr. Hensoldt for preparing the slides from which the photomicrographs used to illustrate this article were made;
also to Professor William Stratford and Mr. Edgar J. Wright for taking the photographs from the slides.


MY MICROSCOPE.


550






MY MICROSCOPE.


from place to place by means of suckers. When For a long time th
it wishes to remain quiet, the anchors, which were put was the
have been closed over perforated, chalky plates, Spiders are divided
are extended outward from the body, and fasten spider, which has n
the little creature securely to the sand or mud. making spider. It
The sea-cucumbers found on our coasts are with the combs. F
small, seldom over four inches in length, though draws the thread f
larger kinds abound in the Bay of Fundy, and substance that soo
upon the mud-flats of Florida. The
Chinese call a lar..r r "l:,- :i- --
pang," and when Ine:! r.nd -
preserved in a palcuai ." i l
way it is consider.: .
a great delicacy. .,
When I look
at this slide I /# .
wonderifman"
first got his r t
ideaofanan-
chorfromthis
little creature. '
Yet anchors '
were in use
long before mi- ..
croscopes, and thi
little anchors a re -
much too small r.-, Ie -;*
seen by the unalJed e\e
I shall treat the re I r :, i. --
NICHOLAS as I d. io'lli:r rieni-. I -
have saved my most wonderful slide till FOOT OF THE EMERALD-SPIDER.
the last. Look at the lower picture. It is the
slide as it appears to the naked eye. Then
look at the larger picture, which is simply a sl
photograph of the dot in the middle of the
slide, as it appears when enormously magnified.
I do not believe you ever would fancy that this
was a spider's foot, yet that is what it is. It
belongs to the emerald-spider, found in Texas.
The combs are of the color of horn a brownish
yellow; in fact, they look so much like two little
old combs, a trifle warped by age, that whoever
sees this slide for the first time is very likely to
make some amusing exclamation.
Every web-making spider is furnished with
eight pairs of such combs, though few have as
many teeth as those belonging to the emerald-
spider. You may see a picture of a spider's
foot in Carpenter's book on the Microscope, but
the combs shown there have only a few teeth.


e use to which these combs
subject of much discussion.
into two classes: the hunting
o combs at all, and the web-
is the latter that is furnished
rom its own body the spider
or its web, a thick, jelly-like
n hardens when exposed to


S,-


the air. Often one sees
a large spider hanging by
a very slender thread. This
would hardly be possible
if the thread consisted of a
single strand. The thread
is made up of a number
of these strands, and it is
now believed that it is in
the management of these
that the spider uses its
comb. Otherwise, even
so deft a little spinner as
the spider would get the
meshes of its web hope-
lessly tangled. It is be-
lieved, -also, that the
number of strands in the
thread is the same as the






MY MICROSCOPE.


number of spaces between the teeth of the
comb.
Almost as curious as the combs is the tuft or
brush beneath them. This the spider uses to clear
his web of particles of dust that lodge upon it.
Who would suspect any practical, bloodthirsty
spider of actually using brushes and combs ?
The world about us is filled with more won-
ders than ever have been written of in books.
Examine the very smallest objects of God's
making, and see if you can find evidence of any
but the most wonderful completeness. Every-
thing is perfectly fitted and equipped for the
place it fills in the world.
A microscope has one great advantage over
a photographic outfit; namely, that after you
have purchased a good instrument the outlay
demanded is almost nothing. In photography
there is a continual need for plates and chemi-
cals. Of course there are plenty of opportunities
to spend money for various microscope accesso-
ries, though very few of them can be classed under
the head of necessities. If you look through
a catalogue of microscopist's supplies, this will
be hard to believe; but remember, the manu-
facturers have, if not an ax," certainly a lens,
"to grind."
A prominent microscopist, a member of the
Royal Microscopical Society, told me that
amateurs who load their cases with every pos-
sible and impossible appliance, and who care
more for their instruments than for what they
may see through them, are called "brass and
glass men. But, to tell you a secret, the real
workers have an even worse name! They are
called "slug and bug men!
An elaborate and expensive outfit is not ne-
cessary. The men who have made the most
wonderful discoveries in this branch of science
use instruments that would fill the soul of the
average amateur with scorn.
A good, firm microscope stand will cost, per-
haps, twenty-five or thirty dollars; and this, with
an eyepiece and two good magnifying glasses
(one of them a one-half inch objective," the
other a "one and a half inch objective "), ought
to satisfy any but the most advanced student.
Often it is possible to buy a microscope at
second-hand for a much smaller sum than it
would cost if new. Do not, however, buy a


rickety or imperfect instrument because it is
cheap. Ask the advice of some professional
microscopist. There are more people inter-
ested in this science than is commonly sup-
posed; and, take my word for it, they are the
most obliging persons in the world.
Books on the subject are countless. Arm
yourself, if possible, with the very latest edition
of William B. Carpenter's famous and rather
bulky book on the Microscope. When you
have exhausted its contents, then look around
for some other works with which to enlarge
your knowledge and library.
With no more of an outfit than I have sug-
gested, you will have at hand the means for
enjoying many quiet, happy hours.
Besides the wonder of it all, remember the
great benefit the microscope has been to man-
kind. Think of Robert Koch, the now famous
German scientist who, a few years ago, and
again recently, set the whole scientific world
agog over his theories of the bacteria. Hun-
dreds have been at work to prove or disprove
what he has said, and a result is that societies
for systematic study with the microscope are
springing up in all civilized countries.
Every one has heard of the practical use to
which Louis Pasteur, the illustrious French
chemist, has put his wonderful microscope.
His discoveries have been of incalculable bene-
fit to French grape-growers and silkworm cul-
tivators. These industries were threatened with
annihilation until Pasteur, through his micro-
scope, discovered the exact nature of the diseases;
and, having found out the trouble, the remedy
was not far to seek.
Find somebody who owns a microscope.
Examine it. Then buy one yourself, even
though this may necessitate a little self-denial
in other directions.
With nothing more than a firm table, a good
lamp, and my microscope, I can spend a whole
evening by myself with pleasure and profit,
even though the only thing I may have to ex-
amine be a common daisy. If it is not the sea-
son for flowers, I can take a little sugar or salt,
dissolve it in water, and put a drop of this
water on a glass slip. I watch it carefully for a
few minutes, and it begins to crystallize. While
I see the tiny particles fly to their places, in obe-


[MAY,





MY MICROSCOPE.


dience to a marvelous law, I think of Ruskin's
" Ethics of the Dust," and of the wonderful
words in which he has written for young read-
ers about this crystallization.
To those who are partially or wholly deprived
of the sense of hearing (and for this affliction one
is usually compensated by excellent eyesight) the


microscope offers a field for investigation in which
they may compete without any sense of being at
a disadvantage by reason of their infirmity.
The microscope is truly the doorway into
a world of wonders more fascinating than was
ever described or conceived of in the realms of
fairyland.


BY OLIVER HERFORD.


THE PROFESSOR.
TELL me, little violet white,
If you will be so polite,
Tell me how it came that you
Lost your pretty purple hue ?
Were you blanched with sudden fears ?


Were you bleached with fairies' tears ?
Or was Dame Nature out of blue,
Violet, when she came to you ?
THE VIOLET.
Tell me, silly mortal, first,
Ere I satisfy your thirst
For the truth concerning me-
Why you are not like a tree ?
Tell me why you move around,
Trying different kinds of ground,
With your funny legs and boots
In the place of proper roots ?
Tell me, mortal, why your head,
Where green branches ought to spread,
Is as shiny smooth as glass,
With just a fringe of frosty grass ?
Tell me Why, he's gone away!
Wonder why he would n't stay?
Can he be-well, I declare! -
Sensitive about his hair ?


VOL. XVIII.- 41.


553


The lHrfeBsor

and tleP'W alle~r
~ W~DTDs

~J~r tai~~r~ cc










A TURNING-POINT.

By KATHARINE MCDOWELL RICE.


wC .Y beloved journal!
At last I've time!"
and so saying, Lena
Meredith unlocked
the upper drawer
of her desk and
took out a green-
i covered book with
Corners and back
of dark red leather.
S Lena had given
the greater part of
a the morning to
i: IIllisi sweeping and ar-
ranging her room,
and then devoted some time to her own ap-
pearance, one of the finishing touches being
the arranging of her hair in the new way the
girls were all wearing it, and tying it with a
ribbon to match the new cashmere dress she
was putting on for the first time.
And now she had sunk into an easy-chair in
the sunny bay window with her journal. She
had taken a newspaper out of the chair as she
had seated herself, and had put it with the journal,
on her lap. Some words in it caught her eye,
" Nothing is troublesome that we do willingly."
She.read the sentence over two or three times.
Well, I don't know about that," she said to
herself, as she folded the paper and laid it on the
table near her. "I can think of things that
would be awfully troublesome no matter how
one did them. Imagine, now, if after I 'd ar-
ranged my room and was all dressed, expect-
ing Lottie or some of the girls, Harry should
want me to go and paste pictures with him, or
something like that. That would certainly be
troublesome. Still, if I could do it willingly--"
she glanced again at the paper. "'Nothing is
troublesome that we do willingly.' Yes, if one
could make up one's mind to it. Still, I don't
know, either,--"
At this point, looking out of the window, she


saw Harry being taken out for a drive by a
gentleman who had lately come to live in the
neighborhood and had shown a great liking
for the child. Lena breathed a sigh of relief.
Harry, at least, was not going to interfere with
her morning.
"Lena! came a voice from downstairs.
"Yes, 'm," called Lena brightly, as she ran
to her door, hoping to hear Lottie had come.
Lena, my dear," said her mother, whom
Lena could not see, as she was just below the
turn in the stairway, Mary has looked so ill all
the morning that I have sent her to bed. Will
you come down and help me get dinner, dear,
as soon as you can ? "
The eager, expectant look on the little girl's
face went utterly out. She who had looked so
bright and pretty a moment before, as she turned
her head toward the stairway to hear which of
her friends had come, bore no resemblance to the
dark, frowning girl who was now there. None,
except that the cashmere and the ribbon were
the same.
A hundred thoughts rushed to her mind.
Among them was: Why get any dinner? Her
father would not mind if they had a sort of lunch
instead. She would suggest it.
But-those words: Nothing is troublesome
that we do willingly! "
Did you hear me, dear?"
"Yes, 'm," faltered Lena, and somehow she
could not get any further. She stood there
irresolute. How little a thing to make one's
heart beat so fast! to make one clench one's
hands! Yet her heart was beating rapidly and
her hands were tightly closed.
If Lena could have seen that anxious face
below, perhaps the struggle would not have
been so long. As it was, Mrs. Meredith did
not notice that there was a pause between the
faltering Yes, 'm," and the cheerful I '11 be
down, Mother, just as soon as I can."
Are you wearing your new dress, dear ?"






A TURNING-POINT.


"Yes, 'm."
"Well, I think you would better take it off."
Won't it do if I put on the big rubber apron ?
That covers me all up, you know." But Lena
didn't say this. She caught herself just in time,
and only thought it instead. It was not so hard
now as it had been a moment ago, perhaps, to
meet these troublesome things.
"All right, Mother; I will."
The face below the turn of the stairs had
undergone quite as much of a change as the
one at the top. That look, betraying an anxiety
as to how Lena would take the announcement
that her Saturday-the day that was always
allowed for herself-was to be broken into,
changed into one of relief as Lena's answers
came down the stairway.
Now, if I take it off, I must take it off will-
ingly," said Lena, as she went to the glass and
unfastened all the hooks on the pretty silk vest
that fifteen minutes before she was fastening
with such satisfaction. "I must hurry, too, or
my good resolutions may be forgotten. And
it is n't so hard to have to take it off when I
know it's to help mother. It took her days and
days to make the dress, and it 's just as pretty
as it can be," resting her hand lightly on the
soft, full trimmings as she laid the waist away in
her drawer. "There 's really something in that
motto. Things really are not so troublesome
as one would think."
She had slipped into her working-dress again
and was about going downstairs, saying to her-
self, I believe I '11 leave my dress-skirt right
on the bed. I '11 want to put it on directly after
dinner, and it 's such a bother to-but no, it
is n't either," and she ran for a stool, stood
upon it, and hung the pretty gray. skirt in her
closet.
I started to get the turnips ready," said Mrs.
Meredith, as Lena came into the kitchen, but
I had to come back to my preserves."
She was bending over the fire, stirring the
fruit, her face very red from the heat and
exercise.
"Are you preserving, Mother? exclaimed
Lena. "I did n't know it."
She wondered whether her mother were doing
this hard work willingly." Preserving always
appeared to Lena one of the most troublesome


of things. And her mother had even thought
of getting the dinner, too and that willingly!
You ought not to have done anything about
dinner, Mother."
"I have n't done much but set the table,
dear. I did n't like to interfere with your holi-
day." Mrs. Meredith's voice was very cheery
as she stirred away at the fruit.
She 's doing that thing willingly," Lena de-
cided, and she herself took up with great spirit
the turnip-paring her mother had begun.
I thought we 'd have the steak, mashed
potatoes, and the turnips," said Mrs. Meredith.
" And there 's a mince-pie all baked. It needs
only to be put in the oven and thoroughly
heated."
"Papa does n't like mince-pie very much.
Sha'n't I make something for him ?"
Mrs. Meredith turned to look at Lena. There


"NOTHING IS TROUBLESOME THAT WE DO WILLINGLY.
she sat cheerfully slicing the turnips and saying,
"Saturday 's a holiday for a professor as well
as for a school-girl, and I think it would be
nice to make papa's favorite dessert! Don't
you think so?"
Well, I had thought, myself, that one of


555





A TURNING-POINT.


those sponge-cakes with some whipped-cream
would be nice, and rather improve the dinner.
But I did n't know that you would be willing
to take the trouble."
Willing-trouble. Was the whole world here-
after to revolve around those two words ?
It so happened that Leia did not get out
the new dress again that day. By the time the
dinner dishes were all out of the way, and the
fruit all canned and labeled, there was not much
time before some biscuits were to be made for
supper, and with one demand and another it
was nearly eight o'clock before she took up her
journal.
She was seated in the easy-chair again, now,
under the soft light of the lamp, and reaching
for the paper on the table she cut from it the
words: Nothing is troublesome that we do
willingly." They came at the end of a column,
and on the margin below Lena wrote, "And
there is really happiness if we do it."
I ought to have made my part sound more
finished," thought Lena as she read it all over.


" If I had added, 'And willing d
happiness,' it would have rounded i
Still, happiness does n't wait till the <
Happiness goes right through it all
if I ought to write it all out in
How I have resolved to take this
through life, and tell about all tt
opened to-day; how disagreeable t]
right into agreeable ones as soon a
willingly? No, I think I '11 put on
with the date. Let me see," turn
leaves, what I wrote last Saturday
all about our going nutting in the ]
our jolly ride home in the afternoon
party at Flo's, and the cantata of I
evening. Why, what a full day t
how very unimportant to-day is i
Then, bending over the clear page
"Saturday, Oct. 18. Nothing is
that we do willingly.' A very une
And yet there never had corn
never came, into Lena's life a mc
day than this.





Dorothy, I
Dill
Each has
-_ sit st:
i Do not pee
Around to
If others b(
As well as
But fold th
Upon thy:
And be as
,.. As good co



































A DIET OF CANDY.

BY THE MOTHER OF A "DEVOURING" READER.


T was five o'clock on one of those first
cold evenings when boys, scarcely realiz-
ing that summer is gone, forget to coihe
into the house until the darkness drives
them in. Arthur came flying into the
pretty sitting-room bringing the frosty
air with him. He had been raking a great pile
of leaves; and he held his cold hands to the
grate as he hopped about, hoping there was
something good for supper.
I '11 take a look into the kitchen and see for
myself," he said. He came back presently with
satisfaction all over his face.
There's cold meat, and baked potatoes, and
rice, and fruit, and cookies "; and he executed
a different antic as he mentioned each appetiz-
ing item. "That 's what I call a jolly supper,
'specially the rice and cookies." (Arthur always
said cookies," although his Kentucky aunties
tried to have him say tea-cakes.") His mother
sat by the table reading. She was one of that


army of busy mothers who spend the whole day
working for home and children, and in the even-
ing snatch a brief hour in which to feed their
own hungry minds. She had a book of history,
now, and Arthur settled down quietly, for he
knew it was her pet reading-hour. He was look-
ing over the evening paper, having reached the
mature age of ten, when the key rattled in the
latch and his father came in. Arthur sprang to
meet him and to relieve him of some of the
bundles with which he always came loaded. He
was a newspaper man, and his pockets generally
bulged out with new magazines, "sample cop-
ies," illustrated papers, and packets of fancy sta-
tionery or advertising cards.
Oh, goody! the ST. NICHOLAS," Arthur
shouted, espying the cover projecting from his
father's pocket. "Now for Lady Jane.' "
"Wait until after supper and read' Lady Jane'
aloud. I am as much interested in it as you,"
his mother said. Arthur's attention was diverted



































A DIET OF CANDY.

BY THE MOTHER OF A "DEVOURING" READER.


T was five o'clock on one of those first
cold evenings when boys, scarcely realiz-
ing that summer is gone, forget to coihe
into the house until the darkness drives
them in. Arthur came flying into the
pretty sitting-room bringing the frosty
air with him. He had been raking a great pile
of leaves; and he held his cold hands to the
grate as he hopped about, hoping there was
something good for supper.
I '11 take a look into the kitchen and see for
myself," he said. He came back presently with
satisfaction all over his face.
There's cold meat, and baked potatoes, and
rice, and fruit, and cookies "; and he executed
a different antic as he mentioned each appetiz-
ing item. "That 's what I call a jolly supper,
'specially the rice and cookies." (Arthur always
said cookies," although his Kentucky aunties
tried to have him say tea-cakes.") His mother
sat by the table reading. She was one of that


army of busy mothers who spend the whole day
working for home and children, and in the even-
ing snatch a brief hour in which to feed their
own hungry minds. She had a book of history,
now, and Arthur settled down quietly, for he
knew it was her pet reading-hour. He was look-
ing over the evening paper, having reached the
mature age of ten, when the key rattled in the
latch and his father came in. Arthur sprang to
meet him and to relieve him of some of the
bundles with which he always came loaded. He
was a newspaper man, and his pockets generally
bulged out with new magazines, "sample cop-
ies," illustrated papers, and packets of fancy sta-
tionery or advertising cards.
Oh, goody! the ST. NICHOLAS," Arthur
shouted, espying the cover projecting from his
father's pocket. "Now for Lady Jane.' "
"Wait until after supper and read' Lady Jane'
aloud. I am as much interested in it as you,"
his mother said. Arthur's attention was diverted






A DIET OF CANDY.


just then by a small paper bag which his father
laid in his mother's lap, and which was strongly
suggestive of candy. He seized the bag and
peered in.
Mama, don't you want a chocolate ?"
Not now, dear; it would spoil my appetite
for supper."
I may have some, mayn't I ? And although
his father suggested that he wait until after tea,
Arthur placed the bag beside him, and, as he
cut the pages of the new magazine, his fingers
made frequent journeys to the candy bag. When
the tea-bell rang he gave a great jump.
"Supper 's ready-come on! he said; and
as he rose the bag fell to the floor. His father
picked it up.
"Why, Arthur,-you greedy boy!-you 've
eaten half the chocolates."
Arthur looked into the bag, aghast at what he
had done.
You '11 have to lay the blame on ST. NICHO-
LAS, Papa; I did n't know what I was doing."
Next time, young man, be more consider-
ate. I brought those to your mother," and his
father tweaked his ear. The supper was a pleas-
ant one; the steam arose from the hot potatoes,
and the faces of the younger children beamed
rosily as they waved their threatening spoons
over the bowls of rice temptingly prepared
with yellow cream and a spoonful of jelly. But
Arthur, after unfolding his napkin, sat languidly
looking at the table. "We have n't a thing for
supper that I like !" he said petulantly.
Why, Arthur, what 's the matter? Were n't
you just rejoicing over the prospect of rice and
cookies ? "
"There 's no need of inquiring what 's the
matter--a boy who has just eaten a dozen
chocolate-creams simply cannot hold anything
more. It 's a physical impossibility." And
Arthur's father laughed as he looked at his rue-
ful son. Learn a lesson of moderation, my boy.
Don't spoil a good healthy appetite with too
much candy." After supper, Arthur stretched
himself on the couch, for his head ached. His
mother read aloud the instalment of "Lady
Jane."

.Two evenings later Arthur threw down ST.
NICHOLAS. "There- I 'm ready for the next


number, and I hope it will be as good as this
one."
His mother laid down her book and opened
the magazine. Do you mean to say you have
finished this in two readings ? "
Arthur was inclined to skim, and his mother
frequently questioned him about his reading.
"Yes 'm- I 've read it all and I have n't
skimmed or skum. Which is it ? "
"It is skimmed. But I fear you have.
Let me see," and she turned the pages.
" What a feast of good things! I don't blame
you for devouring it- this David and Goliath'
must be interesting; is n't it ? "
David and Goliath! I don't remember
that. Oh, yes,- about the ships. Well, you
see I did n't read that, Mama. I thought it was
one of those dry articles about machinery, and
so I left that for some other time some time
when I felt more like studying over it."
His mother said nothing but turned the
leaves. "And this 'Through the Back Ages.'
I wish, Arthur, you had saved that to read to
me. We have geology in our home-reading
course this year, and I would have enjoyed it
with you."
Geology,- that 's all about stones and
bones and coal and fern-leaves, is n't it ? Well,
Mama, I thought that article was too old for
me, so I did n't read it. Of course if you would
read it with me I could understand it."
His mother raised her eyebrows in a way
that always made Arthur feel uncomfortable.
He wriggled a little in his chair, but she went on
turning the leaves. "Is the article on the "Gator'
a story or a description ? she asked, at length.
"The 'Gator,' Mama ? "
"Yes; that is, the 'Alligator.' "
"I have n't read it yet. By the time I fin-
ished 'Toby Trafford,' The Boy Settlers,' and
the rest, my eyes hurt."
His mother closed the book and laughed.
"Arthur, you remind me of a woman I once
heard of. She sent her daughter each week to
get a book from a public library. She told her
to look into the book, and said if there are lots
of Ohs" and Ahs," I shall be sure to like it.'
Now, you are very much like that woman-if
you see plenty of Ohs' and 'Ahs,' you read
the story-if you don't, you skip it."


558


[MAY,





A DIET -OF CANDY.


559


Arthur smiled an ashamed smile. But you
know, Mama, the stories are so lively, you can't
help reading them, and afterward, the other
articles seem so-quiet, you know."
His mother looked down a moment, as if
in study. "Arthur, if you had a fairy wand,
and could change each article in the ST. NICHO-
LAS into something to eat, what would the
stories represent ?"
I don't know what you mean, Mama."
"Well, what kind of food would best repre-
sent Lady Jane,' 'Toby Trafford,' and those
other fascinating tales ?"
Candy, of course great big marshmallows
and chocolates, cream candy and nut candy,
and taffy, too,-for that's good, though it is n't
so fine."
"And those quiet, instructive articles, without
any Ohs' and Ahs,'-which it seems you have
not read ? "
"I s'pose they'd be bread and butter, or
oatmeal, or meat, or something like that."
"Do you remember when you feasted on
candy, the other night before supper ? "
Well, I think I do! I could n't eat any of the
good supper, and had headache all the evening."
But the candy took away your hunger; did
it not ? It took the place of supper."
It filled me up, but somehow it was n't
so-satisfactious." Arthur sometimes coins a
word. "And then the headache, you know,-
of course I never have that after eating potatoes
or rice."
"Well, now, my dear boy" (Arthur began
to realize that a moral was coming), "your
mind must be fed as well as your body. It
is growing as rapidly-yes, more rapidly than
your body, and it needs a daily supply of nour-
ishing food. Don't you see that you are feed-
ing it chiefly on candy? You are giving it
only what it fancies, without any thought as to
whether a diet composed entirely of such food
is sufficiently nourishing."


"But, Mama, you yourself like all those sto-
ries. Don't you remember how you slipped off
and read 'Lady Jane' all by yourself, the last
time? "
His mother laughed. Indeed I do; it was
not generous, I know, but that very act proves
my high opinion of stories. They have their
place in literature, and a noble one it is; not a
serial in ST. NICHOLAS but has some strong and
true lesson within it; something that should
make one better and purer; but if you allow
your love for stories full sway, it may entirely
destroy your taste for anything else. You can
no more build up your intellect on fiction alone,
than you can sustain your body on sweetmeats
alone."
You would n't ask a boy to go without cake
and candy forever, would you ? Arthur asked
plaintively.
No, indeed; the sweets, like the stories, are
both desirable and necessary. But how about
mingling the foods both the mental and the
moral food ? Take your bread and butter and
meat as your main sustenance, and then your
sweetmeats to add pleasure and variety to your
meal. So with your reading. Do not read all the
stories at once. That takes away an appetite for
the less exciting but more instructive articles.
Read a story and then read one of those' quiet'
articles you speak of; something that will teach
you some fact in nature or philosophy and will
set you thinking. Stories, and nothing else, will
give you dyspepsia of the mind, just as-"
A gentle snore interrupted this flow of elo-
quence. Arthur was sound asleep, but the next
evening he was seen sitting somewhat apart
from the family, with a most interested look
upon his face. Occasionally he asked a ques-
tion about animals, guns, and other things, and
finally he closed the magazine with a satisfied
bang and called out:
"Why, Mama, the 'bread and butter' is
every bit as good as the 'candy'!"

Sarah S. Pr-att.





FOR VERY LITTLE FOLK.


PUSSY AND THE TURTLE.

ONCE upon a time there lived a pretty little kitten. His mother was
just beginning to teach him how to catch mice. So, one day, he stole away
and went down into a cold cellar to go a-hunting all by himself. I '11 catch
ever so many," he thought: Six for mother, one for brother Spotty, one
for Dotty, one for Scramble, one for Tumble, and two for poor little Flop
who never is well."
Then he sat and waited. It is the way to begin," he thought; "and I
must be very quiet, like mother!" At this moment something stirred
a pile of turnips in the corner, and the top one fell off and started to roll
along the cellar floor.
Pussy flew upon it in a jiffy. Good he exclaimed, I 've killed it-
though it does n't seem to be a mouse. How cold and queer it feels! I
wish Scramble was with me. Guess I '11 go back to mother as soon as I 've
caught one real mouse."
Just then he heard a hard, thumping sound. With a start and a jump
he turned quickly, and if there was n't a great big turtle creeping toward
him! Turtles, you know, move very, very slowly. I suppose they find
their hard shell rather heavy.
Oh, dear! I don't want to catch any mouse at all," said Puss to himself.
I'm scared. I want to go back."
Still the turtle moved toward him, nearer and nearer. "Oh oh thought
Pussy, now afraid to move, it's going to pounce upon me. I know it is. And
if I run away he '11 catch me, sure!"
The turtle came closer.
Go 'way go 'way !" cried Puss. You just dare to touch me, and I '11
give your back such a scratch as you never had in all your life!"
The turtle turned around and waddled slowly off.
Now 's my chance," cried Puss, and he jumped upon the enemy.
"The idea of that little puss trying to hurt my hard back!" said the
turtle to himself, and he drew completely into his shell so that he might
have a good laugh.
Dear me !" thought puss in horror, "where has his head gone to I
must have bitten it off! What will mother say ? "
And he scampered away, as fast as his legs could carry him, to tell
Spotty, Dotty, Tumble, Scramble, and Flop, the wonderful news.









































































'I' LL GIVE YOUR BACK SUCH A SCRATCH AS YOU NEVER HAD IN ALL YOUR LIFE CRIED PUSS
"'I' LL GIVE YOUR BACK SUCH A SCRATCH AS YOU NEVER HAS IN ALL YOUR L1FB! CRIED PUSS."~





[MAY,


JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT.


SI K- 1 N -T I -I E PULPi T.


GooD May to you, my friends That is to say:
Sweetness to you Brightness to you! Blossom-
time to you in brief, all the fresh glory of the
spring to you! I trust I make myself clear? If
not, just run out of doors on the first May morn-
ing and ask what Jack means by all this; and May
herself will answer you.
Meantime, here is a pretty song about her,
which I am sure will please you, for it was written
for you by Evelyn Austin, a fair young friend of
ST. NICHOLAS who loved all sweet and beautiful
things:
A SONG OF MAY.,

MERRY, rollicking, frolicking May
Into the woods came skipping one day;
She teased the brook till he laughed outright,
And gurgled and scolded with all his might;
She chirped to the birds and bade them sing
A chorus of welcome to Lady Spring;
And the bees and the butterflies she set
To waking the flowers that were sleeping yet.
She shook the trees till the buds looked out
To see what the trouble was all about;
And nothing in nature escaped that day
The touch of the life-giving, bright young May.

PHOTOGRAPHY OF COLORS.
WHAT is this I hear? Is it true that Prof.
Gabriel Lippmann, a happy scientific Frenchman,
has actually succeeded in photographing bright
colors ? and that he intends to experiment until he
can take photographs of flowers, trees, and even
my very birds in the exact hues of life? Why,
they say that even the blue eyes and rosy cheeks
of boys and girls are to be caught in a snap, so to
speak !
Look into this matter, my chicks. When you
see any grown person specially interested or ex-


perienced in photography, ask the privilege of
questioning him upon the subject. You hold his
coat-button, and let him do the rest.
SEVEN LANGUAGES.
YES, and seven languages that we all understand
pretty well, though we may not be able to speak
them correctly. Your good friend Julie M. L.,
as you will learn from these lines lately sent you
with her compliments, has listened to the cricket,
the katydid, the locust, the tree-toad, the bullfrog,
the lark, and the baby; and this is her report of
WHAT THEY SAY:
CRICKETS chirp, "Hello Hello !
Sun will shine. I tell you so."
Katydid of habit strict
Makes a point to contradict.
Locusts whirr, all in a swarm,
Lis-ten 'T will be ve-ry warm !"
Tree-toad thinks that 's cause to fret,
Whines: "No heat I want it wet."
Bullfrog's voice is thick and hoarse:
Lazy thing croaks, Cut across! "
Lark calls from the sunny sky,
I '11 reach Heaven by and by."
Baby laughs, a merry crow,
SI 've just come from there, you know."
AND now to business, my crowd of thinkers,
bicyclers, and lesson-missers; we have had enough
of speculation and fancy. Let us take up some
good live subject. Ah, I have it !
THE CONDOR OF THE ANDES.
UP among the cold white peaks of the Andes,
higher than human foot has had the daring to
tread, is sometimes seen a dark speck, slowly
circling in the clear air. The speck gradually de-
scends, and we see that it is the largest bird of the
air, the condor. Its flight is swifter than the eagle's.
Nothing but the distance could have made the
condor of the Andes seem small and slow of wing.
Swiftly descending, strong, cruel, hungry, he fas-
tens his horrid eye upon some luckless lamb or
kid. Rarely is it able to escape or hide from its
enemy; successful resistance is impossible. The
condor cannot carry off its prey in its talons like
the eagle, for it has not the eagle's power of grasp,
and the sharpness of its claws is in time worn off
on the hard rocks which are its home ; so, stand-
ing upon the struggling animal with one foot, the
condor kills the poor thing with his powerful beak
and his other foot.
Like manyother greedy creatures, the condorafter
his dinner becomes incapable of flight, and it is only
then that he can be approached with safety; but
even now the hunter must be cautious and strong.
A Chilian miner, who was celebrated for his
great physical strength, once thought that without
weapons he could capture a condor which seemed
unusually stupid after its heavy meal. The man
put forth all his strength, and the engagement
was long and desperate, till at last the poor miner
was glad to escape with his life. Exhausted, torn,
and bleeding, he managed to carry off a few fea-
thers as trophies of the hardest battle he had ever


562






JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT.


fought. He thought that he had left the bird mor-
tally wounded. The other miners went in search
of the body, but instead found the bird alive and
erect, flapping his wings for flight.
If the condor does not reach an untimely end by
violence, it is, according to all accounts, very long-
lived. The Indians of the Andes believe that he
lives for a hundred years.
The condors' homes seem just suited for birds
so ugly and fierce. They build no nest, but the
female selects some hollow in the barren rock that
shall be large enough to shelter her from the strong
winds while she is hatching her eggs. Here, in the
midst of a dreadful desolation, the ugly little con-
dors begin their cries for food, and after they are
six weeks old begin attempting to use their wings.
The parents manifest the only good trait they
possess, in their care for their young, feeding and
training them to fly, so that in a few months
they are able to hunt for
;- -i,' themselves after the grim
fashion of their elders.


THE SECRET CARVER.
DEAR JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT:
Looking through my sketch-
book, a few days ago, I came
across this sketch which I
made while in London, es-
pecially for you. It represents
the remains of a square post
of a door of a government of-
fice at Jamestown, St. Helena,
and it was presented to the
Museum of Natural History
in London, as a specimen of
carving--if I may call it carv-
ing,- by the artist White Ant.
Nothing is left of what was
once a heavy wooden
support, but the
,"i? solid hard
core,


THE DESTRUCTIVE WORK OF WHITE ANTS. THE DOTTED LINE
SHOWS THE ORIGINAL FORM OF THE TIMBER.


with its string-like pieces of tougher fiber hanging from
the branches like moss from southern trees. On closely
inspecting this skeleton, I observed that every part of it
had been most beautifully grooved; not an inch of space
but what had been worked upon. The grooves, which
followed the grain of the wood, were many hundreds in
number, and so wonderful was the workmanship that I
could hardly convince myself I was not looking at a
work of decoration instead of destruction. The tools used
were the little ant's jaws, but the furrows were as smooth
and as clean-cut as if they had been chiseled with a sharp
steel gouge.
You may ask how it is these little destroyers are
allowed to do such damaging work, and why they are
not driven away as soon as they appear. Let me tell
you, the white ant is a sly little workman. In working,
it avoids piercing the outer surface of the woodwork, and
hence the wood appears sound, even when the slightest
touch is sufficient to cause it to fall to pieces.
Just imagine how uncomfortable it must be to live in
a house where the door post may suddenly fall into pow-
der, or, on attempting to seat yourself in a chair which
has not been used for some time, to have that fall into
pieces! It would certainly seem as if mischievous fairies
were with us once more, and in no way improved in
their tricks and manners."
Evidently these little ant-fairies have quite a varied
taste, for they are not always content with a wood diet.
In the same case with the post I have shown you, is
a piece of sheet lead which has furnished them with a
few dinners. I send you a sketch of this also.
MEREDITH NUGENT.

THE BLUE SKY.
BY way of opening this subject, I may as
well tell you that there is n't, actually, any such
place as the blue sky. In fact, the sky is all moon-
shine-or perhaps I should say all mists and sun-
shine. It is nothing but air, about fifty miles high,
or deep, whichever you please, and beyond that it
is vacancy, and is nowhere in particular even then.
If you stand in the valley and look up into the air
you '11 see what you call the sky; then if you climb
out of the valley and up to the top of the mountains,
you '11 probably be standing in the very sky that
you saw before, and, looking up into the air over-
head, you '11 have another sky just as good; and
then if you get into a balloon and go higher yet,
you '11 still see a sky smiling down at you, as the
poets say. What wonder I'd smile too if I were
a body of air fifty miles deep or high, thousands or
millions of miles from the great heavenly bodies, and
should find myself regarded as a sort of blue roof
studded with little gold buttons or specks, called
stars. Then to hear the very methodical moon
(about 240,000 miles off) alluded to as a silver
boat sailing in me !-and to hear the mighty sun
(over eighty millions of miles away from my utmost
limits) described as "struggling through" my
gentle clouds Why, it would be enough to make
me laugh outright, so to speak- that is supposing
I were this so-called azure roof, which, thank
goodness, I 'm not, for I don't fancy dampness or
vagueness of any sort.
Now, my rosy philosophers, if by any accident
you fail to understand all this, please do not bother
me about it. Search elsewhere for information--
ask your parents about it, or indeed any busy person
who is sufficiently uninformed upon the subject.


tI I












THE LETTER-BOX.


DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: It occurs to me that some of
your young readers, especially those who have read the
first paper on "The Land of Pluck" (in the December
number), may be interested in hearing something of the
little girl who has lately become Queen of Holland.
Queen Wilhemina, as she is called, though her mother
Emma is for the present acting as queen regent, is a
bright, happy child of eleven years, willing to study, and,
like other little girls, glad also to play.
She owns dozens of finely dressed dolls, but her favo-
rite pets are her Shetland pony, and one hundred and
fifty pet pigeons which she cares for herself. ...
When first told, a few months ago, that she was to be
queen, she exclaimed in dismay: Shall I have to sign all
those papers as mama does ? But queenly duties will
not be forced upon her for several years to come .
Wilhelmina gets up every morning at seven o'clock,
and her study hours are from nine to twelve. Then she
has her simple noonday meal. She takes rides upon her
pony every afternoon, no matter what the weather may
be, and after a dinner at six, and a pleasant evening with
her mother, goes to bed at eight o'clock. Her gover-
ness is an English woman, Miss Winter.
About $240,000 has been set apart for the little queen's
annual household expenses. Her household comprises
two chamberlains, four professors, an equerry, and two
lady's maids. Besides these, she has a "military house-
hold," whatever that may be. She lives in a castle
called Het Loo," surrounded by meadows and very
old trees. In the castle garden there are beds of fine
tulips of which her father was very fond. In his study,
now the young queen's private audience room, is a large
collection of arms and armor displayed upon the walls.
In conclusion, dear ST. NICHOLAS, let me give
your readers an extract from a paper in the New York
Tribune, to which I am indebted for some of the above
points :
It has been said of the English Parliament that there
was nothing it could not do except turn a woman into a
man. The Dutch High Court of Justice has just given
proof of its ability to accomplish what is beyond the
power even of the British Parliament, by deciding that
officials and other public servants should take the oath
of allegiance, not to 'Queen,' but to 'King' Wilhel-
mina. This extraordinary decision has been violently
attacked by the Dutch press as contrary to common
sense, but the High Court is far too independent a body
for there being any chance of its yielding the point. The
States General alone could declare that even in Holland
a queen is not a king, but it is doubtful if this is done."
Yours truly, J. T- .


A LETTER FROM HOLLAND.
STRANGE to say, J. T's welcome letter was hardly in
type, before another was handed us which is so interest-
ing, and so exactly fits into this number of ST. NICHOLAS
that we print it almost entire.
It came, as you see, straight from Holland, and the
writer, a bright and patriotic Dutch girl, is in herself the
best evidence one can have of the advantages of education
her country offers to all.
It cannot but be encouraging to young Americans try-


ing to master a foreign tongue, to see how perfectly this
Holland maiden expresses herself in English. Not a
word of her beautifully written letter has been changed.


SCHEVENINGEN, February 28, 1891.
MY DEAR L. : It is now ten years ago that we began
our correspondence, and those ten years have had for me
an even and uneventful course, but they have been very
pleasant and happy years, too; I should not mind living
them over again. The year that has gone has been very
much like the foregoing ones except for some political
events which have created a change in our country. Our
old king died, as you probably know, and at his death
there has been a sincere mourning over the whole coun-
try. Personally he was not so very much liked; he was
good but not particularly sympathetic or clever in any
way. Still his subjects were attached to him because he
was-his two sons having died-the last male descen-
dant of a glorious and highly respected race : the House
of Orange. The Oranges are loved by the Dutch because
they can boast of many a valorous and wise ancestor, but
principally because the head of the house, Prince Wil-
liam who died in 1564, freed the people from the Spanish
tyrant whose despotic reign threatened to become un-
bearable. The sole descendant of this long list of
princes and kings is our little Queen Wilhelmina, a child
of ten years, very much beloved by the people, who
cherish this frail bud in which all their hopes are fast-
ened, as something very precious. The government is
now in the hands of her mother, who is queen regent
until the little one is eighteen years old. She is a very
superior woman, kind and wise, giving her little daugh-
ter a sensible education, and quite capable of filling her
difficult position and of executing her duties exceedingly
well. Of course you, like a true American, do not feel
any enthusiasm for kings and queens, but our govern-
ment is constitutional and very liberal, and I don't think
the people have in reality much more freedom in any of
the new republics than in our kingdom. The two queens
live in the Hague. As yet, of course, everything is very
quiet at the court, but the mother and daughter can be
seen daily when driving out, both in deep mourning, but
looking very happy together. They pass our house
nearly every day. I would not be a queen for anything -
would you ? Fancy not a bit of freedom, not being able
to move a step without the whole land, so to say, know-
ing ofit ; their sorrows and rejoicings, public sorrows and
rejoicings Seemingly rulers of the land, but in reality
dictated to in their slightest acts A dreadful life !
As yet all goes well in our little country, and I don't
think we need have any fear of being swallowed up by
the great states that surround us.
Now, I think you have had enough of politics.
Our winter has been, as probably everywhere else,
exceptionally cold; an old-fashioned winter, and one
that will be recorded in the annals of history and not
soon forgotten. Of course, it has been the cause of
much poverty and misery, and every one was thankful
when, after weeks of severe frost, the thaw fell in; but
much has been done to soften the sufferings of the poor,
and those who went round to ask for help did not ask in
vain. On the other hand, the whole country was alive
with wholesome merriment, caused by the skating that
was practised over the whole length and width of our
64






THE LETTER-BOX.


watery little land. Holland is very characteristic and very
much at its advantage during such a time, and I am really
thankful that I have lived through such a winter, and
also that it has come at a period of my life when I have
been able to join in the universal movement.
As you know, a great many of the people, especially
the peasants, skate very well. The country is cut up by
canals running from one town to the other, and from one
village to the other; along these waters slow barges
travel peacefully the whole summer through, laden with
coals, wood, vegetables, pottery, and numberless other
things; a great deal of traffic is done in this slow but
sure way, as it is a very cheap mode of transport. But
these same waters now bore a much livelier aspect.
People of all classes skated along their smooth surfaces,
and many have been the expeditions planned and executed
to skate from one town to the other, halting at several
small villages on the way, and thus seeing the country
in an original and very pleasant manner.
My sister and I, and several ladies and gentlemen, made
a charming excursion on one of the finest and mildest
days of the winter. The sun shone brightly, the sky
was blue, and although the thermometer pointed below
zero, it was quite warm and delicious to skate. We
were quite a large party, and went from the Hague to
Amsterdam, and thence across the Y and farther over
the inland waters to Monnickendam, on skates of course.
Monnickendam lies at the Zuider zee, which is a kind of
bay formed by the North Sea and surrounded by several
provinces of our country. In comparison with your grand
lakes, it is small, but we consider it quite a large water,
and it is very rarely frozen over. This year, however,
it was one immense surface of ice, stretching itself out
as far as the eye could reach. It was quite the thing
this winter to go out and see it; so, of course, we went
there and visited the small island of Marken which is
situated near the coast.
A small steamer goes daily from Monnickendam to
the island, or three times a week I 'm not sure about
that; now all the communication was done by sledge
and on skates.over the ice. Thousands of people have
seen Marken this winter in that way, and the place is
quite a curiosity, especially for strangers. (If you hap-
pen to have a map of the Netherlands you'll be sure to
find where it lies.) The costumes worn by the peasant
men and women alone are well worth the voyage to the
place, being quite different from those worn in Scheve-
ningen, and besides the pokey little wooden houses are
charming in their way, and exceedingly clean and neat,
with rows of colored earthenware dishes along the walls,
and carved chests and painted wooden boxes piled one
on the top of the other containing their clothes. Al-
though so near the civilized world these good people live
quite apart, hardly ever marry some one not from the
island, and seem quite contented. They earn their liv-
ing by fishing, and occasionally get as far as a harbor of
Scotland. When we arrived there across the ice we were
very hungry, and on asking a peasant if he could procure
us something to eat, were very hospitably received in his
little house by his wife, who regaled us on bread, cheese,
and milk. Enormous hunches of bread but what will a
hungry skater not eat ? And we sat very snugly in their
little room, admiring all their funny little contrivances.
The Zuider zee was very curious and interesting to see.
Fancy an enormous field of ice crowded with thousands
of people all on skates, and, moving swiftly between
them, brightly painted sledges with strong horses and
jingling bells, looking very picturesque. Also little ice-
boats with large sails that come flying across the frozen
waters, looking like great birds, but keeping at a little
distance from the crowd for fear of accidents. A fair was
held on the ice, where there were going on all kinds of
harmless amusements, and little tents where they sold
cakes and steaming hot milk and chocolate. The whole


scene, the bright, moving, joyous crowd made me think
of the pictures by the old masters, like Teniers and
Ostade, it was so thoroughly Dutch. But to think that
this immense solid surface, whereon you moved so confi-
dently, would melt again before the year was much older
and change itself in lapping waves, was hardly conceiv-
able !
At the Hague we have a very prettily situated skating-
club, where our little circle of friends saw each other
daily and where we spent many a pleasant hour. So the
winter has flown by. It is not quite over but it seems so
to me, as the last weeks have been very fine, and the
place where we live, being half country, directly takes a
spring-like air. Tennis begins to reign supreme, and I
am going to practise this game very seriously.
I have not heard much music this winter. Our German
opera which grew poorer and poorer every year is now
gone altogether, and that was the only way in which we
heard some Wagnerian operas, which I like above all
others; indeed, the more you hear them the less you care
about the others. Once a fortnight I regularly go to
the concert, but there are times when I can't listen to
the music. My mind strays, and try as much as I will, the
sounds pass over me and don't leave any impression; I
think the reason of this is that I have heard too much
music in the last years, and that I don't appreciate it.
So when it is not something I like very very much I had
rather not hear it, as it only needlessly fatigues my brain,
and I do not profit by it at all.
Your letter was very pleasant and so fluently written.
I wish I could do as well; my only consolation is that it
is not my language, but then I cannot produce such a
good style in Dutch either, and you will hardly believe
it, but I need a dictionary more when I write a Dutch
letter than when I write an English one. Of course I
make a great many mistakes in English, but Dutch is a
far more difficult language, and you never know when a
words masculine or feminine (unless you are exceedingly
clever !), as it makes no difference when you speak, but a
great difference when you write; so if you want to write
correctly you have to look in the dictionary or else to
guess. Then you say, Oh that word is probably fem-
inine," and you change the sentence accordingly, and af-
terwards you discover that you were quite wrong. Is not
that a troublesome language ? The French can hear when
to put "le or la before the word, at least they rarely
make mistakes, but we can't. It sounds all the same when
speaking.
I am always very sorry when I hear that your health
is not all that can be desired. Do you take good care
of yourself? and is not your mode of living too busy ?
It is certainly a great trouble to be obliged to manage
your health. I can hardly conceive such a position, be-
cause I can do with my health just what I like. And
now, my dear L., it is really time to finish this long
letter. I think I never wrote such a long one before.
So now good-by, and let me hear soon from you again.
Very truly yours,
ELISE MOLESWATER.


AN unknown correspondent, under the signature
"Classical Friend," calls attention to an error in the
legend for the picture on page 392 of the March ST.
NICHOLAS. It should, of course, read: The Theater of
Dionysus," or Bacchus. Dionysius was the name of sev-
eral distinguished men, especially of one of the tyrants
of Syracuse. Dionysus, our correspondent says, was
the patron of festivity, therefore his worship was carried
on in a theater," where an altar to him was erected. We
are obliged to the anonymous, but vigilant reader.






THE LETTER-BOX.


ENGLAND.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS : I have taken you for two years,
off and on, as we are traveling about, and there is not
another magazine which I know of that I appreciate
as much as yours. I think your stories are lovely, and
the only fault I find in them is, that they are much too
short. We expected to go home to California the begin-
ning of this month, but were detained by my having
the measles. We spent (that is, my sister and I) a very
doleful Christmas, but I managed to eat my mince-pie
and plum-pudding before getting ill. I have traveled ever
since I was fourteen months old, and have been to Eng-
land, France, Spain, Germany, passed through Holland
(that dear little Land of Pluck "), and of course Amer-
ica. I have the dearest, cunningest canary whose name is
" Dicky Boy." He cost twenty marks in Dresden, which
equals five dollars. His singing master having been a
nightingale, his voice is perfectly fascinating! And now,
dear ST. NICHOLAS, I am afraid this letter has not been
very interesting, but having to be kept indoors for a
fortnight, one is apt to get cross and dull. I hope you
will think this worth while to put in your Letter-box. I
would like to write more, but I would bother you and,
besides, Dicky is on the table giving me a concert, so I
must listen to him, or Signor Dickini would be offended.
Your constant reader, EDITH P- .

THREE voung friends who live in Kirkwood, Mo., and


who sign their letter We, Us, & Cc
picture which we take pleasure ii
They call it:
" GOING TO THE POST-OFFICE F(


L
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: You hav
of pleasure to me for many, many 3
1878 and 1879, when I lived in Buf
my sister took you, and almost ev
looked forward eagerly to the time
to appear.
In 1889 I left Buffalo, and have
old dingy London," as somebody
city. Like Julia B. H., who has a
number, from Buffalo, I miss Buf
you now, and though I am getting
enjoy you just as much as ever.


The opinions some of the English have of our glori-
ous country and its inhabitants are often very amusing
if not provoking at times.
I am your devoted reader, PERSEUS."

HAMILTON, CANADA.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: Every month I read the letters
in your Letter-box, but I have never yet seen one from
Ontario, Canada. Now I am sure lots of little girls in
Canada read ST. NICHOLAS, and are as fond of it as I
am, so I will write for all of them, and tell you how much
we enjoy the lovely stories you give us. My father gave
ST. NICHOLAS to me for my eighth birthday, two years
ago, and I hope I shall get it every month for a long time
to come. I am very much interested in "Lady Jane,"
and was sorry it was so soon finished. I wish Mrs.
Jamison would write another story just as nice. And I
also wish Marjorie's papa would tell us something more
about Marjorie. His rhymes were lovely, especially
"The little boy who was turned into a bird." I love
funny rhymes; we often try to make them ourselves.
Now I hope you will be kind enough to print this letter,
not because it is worth printing, but because it comes
from Canada, where you have many constant and admir-
ing readers like Your little friend,
AILEEN R-


o.," send us a spirited WE thank the young friends whose names follow for
n printing herewith. pleasant letters received from them: Urquhart L., Ray
E. B., Otto F., H. S. HI., E. C. P., Laura K., Frances
A. G., Clara E. and Ruth D., George H. S., Holcombe
OR ST. NICHOLAS." W., Lutie M., George W. P. Jr., Lulu B., Gwendoline
D., Janet and Marion, Edna N., Ellie G., Ethel L.,
'"Polly," Esther D. S., Edith B., Ida H., Katie, Mar-
guerite H., Grace H., Helen D., Mabel H., Ava B.,
_r-^ Maude E. F., John A. F., George S., Ada I. H., Chloc
D., Beth L., Alice C. T., Ida M. K., J. McD., Ben V.,
Gertrude P., James W., Oliver H. P., George S. M.,
Julie S. M., F. C. W., Herbert F., Lois L., Margaret
H. D., Harold F., Ruth McN., Will B. S., Elden P.,
Nellie E. T., Rex, Anna and Ring, Doris and Dorothy
D., E. W. Van S., Percy G. W., John M. F., Florence
N., Anna and Eric K., Geo. L. R., Bijou, C. L. R.,
Ethel H. B., Mary Constance DuB., H. L. Mc., Florence
S., Wren W., Alice G. H., Anna M., Annie E. M., Gladys
ONDON, ENGLAND. I. M., Flossie B. B., Merguerite W., Helen B. E., Louis
e been a great source Victor M., Florence E. B., Esther R., C. M. P., Marion
years. As far back as I., Alma E. R., Katharine L. McC., George W. H.,
falo, N. Y., U. S. A., Sarah and Susie B., Harry B., J. C. C., Algenia T. G.,
ery year since I have Irma A. M., Emilie M., Leonora S. M., Charles M.,
of the month for you Rachelle G. H., Stella H., Rebecca A. B., Fleta B., Dot
and Tot, Marietta B. H., Sarah L. P., Mamie L. C.
since lived in "dear Alida A. and Ethel J., Kitty and Nelly, Josephine W. B.,
has called the great Addie W. E., Mary M., Estelle 1., Alice M. P., Mary C.
letter in the January and Beth T., Hubert L. B.. Margaret and Marion, Anne
Falo's beauty." I take Russell A., Annie B. R., Helen F., Mae W., E. A. C.,
almost to manhood I Jeannie E. and Bettie V., "Jack," Lucilla H., Holmes
R., Nellie L. D.


566&









ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN THE APRIL NUMBER.


PRIMAL ACROSTIC. Shakespeare. Cross-words: i. Shylock.
2. Hamlet. 3. Ariel. 4. King Lear. 5. Escalus. 6. Sebastian.
7. Pericles. 8. Egeus. 9. Antony. so. Romeo. is. Eglamour.
PI. By the rude bridge that arched the flood,
Their flag to April's breeze unfurled,
Here once the embattled farmers stood,
And fired the shot heard round the world.


WORD-BUILDING. O, to, sot, host, shoe, Stheno, hornets, shortens.
BEHEADINGS. Sir John Franklin. Cross-words: i. S-crawl.
2. I-deal. 3. R-ye. 4. J-ounce. 5. O-range. 6. H-arbor. 7. N-umber.
8. F-ray. 9. R-ace. so. A-tom. xi. N-opal. 12. K-it. 13. L-ink.
14. 1-rate. 15. N-ode.
DOUBLE ACROSTIC. Primals, United; finals, States. Cross-words:
i. Unisonous. 2. Negligent. 3. Infusoria. Termagant. 5. Elab-
nra1tep f DPecrnters


The foe long since in silence slept; A CRoss PUZZLE. Centrals, Feast of Flowers. Cross-words:
Alike the conqueror silent sleeps; x. Rufus. z. Preen. Glare. 4. Remonstrate. Magistratic.
And Time the ruined bridge has swept 6. Camelopards. 7. Rifts. 8. Lifts. 9. Helot. 1o. Crown.
Down the dark stream which seaward creeps. Ii. Bower. 12. Creed. 13. Samaritan. 14. Christian.
RALPH WALDO EMERSON. DOUBLE DIAGONALS. Diagonals, Frances Burnett; from i to 2o,
RHOMBOIDs. Thumb-stall. I. Across: i. Thumb. 2. Osier. Little Lord Fauntleroy. Cross-woids: I. Bailiff. 2. Authors. 3. Dor-
3. Ensue. 4. Delay. 5. Tetes. II. Across: i. Stall. 2. Orion. sale. 4. Linnets. 5. Lackeys. 6. Seventy. 7. Solvent.
3. Matin. 4. Runes. 5. Seton. CROSS-WORD ENIGMA. San Jacinto.
WORD-SQUARES, i. Cart. 2. Area. 3. Real. 4. Tale. NUMERICAL ENIGMA. "Words are wise men's counters, they do
A PENTAGON. 1. M. 2. Led. 3. Later. 4. Metonic. 5. Denote. but reckon by them; but they are the money of fools."
6. Rites. 7. Cess. THOMAS HOBBES.
To OUR PUZZLERS: Answers, to be acknowledged in the magazine, must be received not later than the x5th of each month, and
should be addressed to ST. NICHOLAS Riddle-box," care of THE CENTURY CO., 33 East Seventeenth St., New York City.
ANSWERS TO ALL THE PUZZLES IN THE FEBRUARY NUMBER were received, before February i5th, from "The Wise Five"-E.
M. G.- Maud E. Palmer Clara B. Orwig Paul Reese- Aunt Kate, Mama and Jamie- M. Josephine Sherwood-" The McG.'s "-
"Adirondack"-J A. F. and J. H. C.-A. L. W. L.-Agnes and Elinor-Pearl F. Stevens--"Arcadia"-" Infantry"-Alice M.
Blanke and Tiddledywinks "- Alice M. C.--Hubert L. Bingay May-" We Two"-Jo and I--Nellie L. Howes- Adele
Walton -"Bud "-Papa and I -Ida and Alice- Helen C. McCleary-" The T. Q. Musical Coterie "-Uncle Mung-" Mr. Toots "-
Edith Sewall Nellie and Reggie- Camp Ida C. Thallon-" Charles Beaufort."
ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN THE FEBRUARY NUMBER were received, before February i5th, from "Nifesca," 3-L. Starr, -R. W.
G. and M. E. G., 2-Ea M. G., i-"Reynard," 4-Elaine Shirley, 5-R. T. Mount, --F. O. D., x-Florence Osborne, i-
E. C. and C. W. Chambers, 2- Mabel H. S., x Mary McKittrick, i- D. N. S. B., i -"Miss Araminta," 4- Leonard Dashiell, 2 -
Katie M. W., 1o-Fred, Willie, and Algar Bourn, i-"Lady Malapert," i-Mary H. Clark, x-Aunt Anna and Lillie, 3-
Clare D., i--Robert A. Stewart, 8- John and Bessie G., 4--Violette, 4 -Effie K. Talboys, 6- Alice Falvey, r-- Ed and Papa, to
- Madge and Jennie, 4 Leander S. Keyser, i Frank C. Lincoln, o-- Gretta F. and Florence O., i -Averill, i Carita, 3- Florence
Oppenheimer, i- George B. Keeler, i-" H. Ercules," -- Mamma and Thurston, 2-M. A. R. --R. Lee Randolph, 3-Virginia
Mercer, i-Couper and Abbie, i-"King Anso IV.," 9-Minna, 2-Charlie Dignan, o--Carrie Thacher, 7-Catherine Bell, i-
Calman, io-Nellie Smith, 2-H. MacDougall, I -Estelle, Clarendon, and C. Ions, 4-Ellen Merenos," I-S. B. C. and A. R. T.,
4 Grace and Nan, 9- Beridene J. Butler, 7- Geoffrey Parsons, 5 -"Three Generations," 6 -"Thor and Hottentot," 2- "Nanne
Cat," i -" Cele and I," 3 --Hetty J. Barrow, 3 -" Six, and Two Dictionaries," 6 George Seymour, 9- Nellie Archer, 3 -" We,
Us, and Co.," 6-Clara and Emma, 7 -" May and 79," 7-" Polly Bob," 3-" Snooks," 3--Beth and Leslie, 3--Nellie and
Edith Perkins, x Maurice C. Zinn, I Laura M. Zinser, 4- Geo. A. Miller, Jr., 3 -" The Scott Family," io- No Name, San Fran-
cisco, 6 -" The Nutshell," 5 Raymonde Robson, 2- Edith J. Sanford, 7-" We, Us, and Company," 9- C. E. M. and M. L. M., 5-
Raymond Baldwin, I Maricia V., 2 Bertha W. Groesbeck, 5 -" Benedick and Beatrice," 5 Ruth A. Hobby, 2 Sissie Hunter, 2 -
C. and C. A. Southwick, 7-Alex. Armstrong, Jr., 7 -" Tivoli Gang," 7- Mabel and Auntie, 2.


*, DIAMOND.
I. IN lackey. 2. The queen of the
] O fairies. 3. The root of a Mexican
plant. 4. A Latin word meaning sub-
stance. 5. The ancient name for Scot-
land. 6. An English title. 7. Lan-
guishes. 8. A small island. 9. In lackey. "XELIS."


covered the cholera-bacillus. 6. A distributive adjective
pronoun. 7. The first word in a famous little poem by
the author of" Rimini." 8. Attenuated. 9. Closed.
N. W. H.
CENTRAL ACROSTIC.


RHYMED WORD-SQUARE.


OF letters six consists the word:
A famous doubter was my first, we 've heard;
Despairest not, my second says;
My thi-d to rest the sleepless lays;
Myfourth describes a portion slight;
Myfitlz, pertaining to the stars of night;
The plural of a metal hard
My sixt will not your work retard.
ROCHESTER.
DOUBLE ACROSTIC.
MY primals and finals each name a poet; one is the
author of Rimini," the other of" Endymion."
CROSS-WORDS (of equal length): I. A prison. 2. A
musical instrument. 3. A prefix signifying half. 4. A
large package or bale especially of cloves. 5. The sur-
name of the German physician and scientist who dis-


CROSS-WORDs: I. In monument. 2. Congregated.
3. A fruit. 4. A figure of speech. 5. A portico. 6. To
wink. 7. To wish for earnestly. 8. Made into bundles.
9. Ancient. o1. Inclosed with palisades. II. Sportive.
The central letters (indicated by stars) will spell a
holiday. "SOLOMON QUILL."


't






THE RIDDLE-BOX.


;NIG II
/ I *.,. .'.. :.-







1 ,- -4 .rr ..1 irn


-/A i :i i .
N .Ti I i'.\| .








2 / .. ..I 4 .l.I,. M. -
SI U 1 -i .


My 66-52-2-70-19 was the god of eloquence among the
ancient Egyptians. My 13-35-59-41-65-38 is the father
of Jupiter. My 21-49-4-61-26was the national god of the
Philistines. My 28-45-15-63-43-56 is the first person
in the trinity of the Hindoos. My 69-54-47-37-10 is a
figure often shown, bearing a globe. My 34-67-23-31
is the god of war. M. D.

WORD-BUILDING.

A VOWEL. 2. Twelve ounces. 3. Salt. 4. Final.
5. Fables. 6. Attendants on a gentleman. 7. Per-
taining to the summer. 8. A carousal.
ELDRED JUNGERICH.

RIMLESS WHEEL AND HUB.


9
16 io
7 15 II
14 12
'3

6


5
FROM I to 9. a tardigrade edentate ma
South America; from 2 to io, a venomous
3 to II, a masculine name; from 4 to
author who died in 1856; from 5 to 13, a


h-l,:i..'.. character; from S to 16,
.:,.:.,r1.:.L i- ize or strength.
I'.:!.i..re-l .:-f wheel (from I to 8), a Ger-
rn..... : ,.: i composer; hub of wheel(from
i :. i.. ,i American statesman.
"O. MISSION." I

PI.
L .i. bauto het finnogtes rai
F.. wen-bron nesteswes seltl;
D)i I eht hungratede yam-frowsel ware
i-.t sintt fo canoe sleshl.
L i. !do, runisgas cramlie
-'. shref sa ferotheroe ;
N i- thare steak pu sit apebral
i.. file rofm thade cone rome.
HOUR-GLASS.
I. WASTES by friction. 2. A musical instrument.
3. Unmatched. 4. In hour-glass. 5. A German musical
composer. 6. Concussion. 7. Loose gravel on shores
and coasts.
The central letters, reading downward, will spell the
surname of a naturalist born in May.
RHOMBOID AND DIAMOND.







RHOMBOID. Across: I. Wise men. 2. A title of
respect. 3. Contented. 4. An opaque substance. 5. To
prevent. Downward: I. In shred. 2. A verb. 3. An
abriform fluid. 4. A small island on the northern coast
of Java. 5. Glutted. 6. To measure. 7. A small, flat
fish. 8. An exclamation. 9. In shred.
INCLUDED DIAMOND. I. In shred. 2. To obstruct.
3. Contented. 4. Converged. 5. In shred.
SPEC ULA."


ZIGZAG.
3 EACH of the words described contain four letters.
When rightly guessed and placed one below the other,
in the order here given, the zigzags, from the upper
left-hand corner to the lower right-hand corner, will
spell the name of a battle fought in May, less than fifty
years ago.
4 To stuff. 2. Part of the face. 3. A kind of nail.
4. The proper coat of the seed of wheat. 5. One of a
tribe of Scythians, or Germans, who settled in Scotland.
6. An exploit. 7. A swimming and diving bird. 8. A
mammal found in knid of earth. 9. A stratagem. io. A cicatrix. II.
reptile; from Enormous. 12. To declare openly. 13. A species of
12, an Italian goat. 14. A blemish. 15 To double. 16. The chief
tumult; from magistrate in Venice.


THE DE VINNE PRESS. NEW YORK.


568




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